THE 

FREE    LANCES. 

A  ROMANCE  OF  THE  MEXICAN  VALLEY. 


BY  THE  LATH 


CAPTAIN    MAYNE    REID, 


<f"T1u  Sc*lf  Hu*t€rtt"  "  The  Death  Shot?  u  Ti.«  P 
"No  Quarter  lm 


NEW  YORK 
HURST  &  COMPANY.  PUBLISH^ 


THE    FREE    LANCES, 


CHAPTER    I. 
VOLUNTEERS  FOR  TEXAS. 

"I'LL  go!" 

This  laconism  came  from  the  lips  of  a  young  man  who 

was  walking  along  the  Levee  of  New  Orleans.  Just  before 
giving  utterance  to  it  he  had  made  a  sudden  stop,  facing  a 
dead  wall,  enlivened,  however,  by  a  large  poster,  on  which 
were  printed,  in  conspicuous  letters,  the  words, — 

"VOLUNTEERS  FOR  TEXAS  1  " 

Underneath,  in  smaller  type,  was  a  proclamation,  setting 
forth  the  treachery  of  Santa  Anna  and  the  whole  Mexican 
nation,  recalling  in  strong  terms  the  Massacre  of  Fanning, 
the  butchery  of  Alamo,  and  other  like  atrocities  ;  ending  in 
an  appeal  to  all  patriots  and  lovers  of  freedom  to  arm,  take 
the  field,  and  fight  against  the  tyrant  of  Mexico  and  his 
myrmidons. 

"  I'll  go  ! "  said  the  young  man,  after  a  glance  given  to 
the  printed  statement ;  then,  more  deliberately  re-reading 
it,  he  repeated  the  words  with  an  emphasis  that  told  of  his 
being  in  earnest. 

The  poster  also  gave  intimation  of  a  meeting  to  be 
held  the  same  evening  at  a  certain  rendezvous  in  Poydras 


:  THE  -FREE   LANCES. 


He  who  read  only  lingered  to  make  note  of  the  address, 
which  was  the  name  of  a  noted  cafe.  Having  done  this, 
he  was  turning  to  continue  his  walk  when  his  path  was 
barred  by  a  specimen  of  humanity,  who  stood  full  six  foot 
six  in  a  pair  of  alligator  leather  boots,  on  the  banquette  by 
his  side. 

"  So  ye're  goin',  air  ye  ? "  was  the  half-interrogative 
speech  that  proceeded  from  the  individual  thus  confronting 
him. 

"  What's  that  to  you  ? "  bluntly  demanded  the  young 
fellow,  his  temper  a  little  ruffled  by  what  appeared  an 
impertinent  obstruction  on  the  part  of  some  swaggering 
bully. 

"  More'n  you  may  think  for,  young  'un,"  answered  the 
booted  Colossus,  still  standing  square  in  the  way  ;  "  more'n 
you  may  think  for,  seein'  it's  through  me  that  bit  o'  paper's 
been  put  up  on  that  'ere  wall." 

"  You're  a  bill-sticker,  I  suppose  ?  "  sneeringly  retorted 
the  "young  'un." 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  "  laughed  the  giant,  with  a  cachinnation 
that  resembled  the  neighing  of  a  horse.  "  A  bill-sticker, 
eh  !  Wai  ;  I  likes  that  An'  I  likes  yur  grit,  too,  young 
feller,  for  all  ye  are  so  sassy.  But  ye  needn't  git  riled,  an* 
I  reckon  ye  won't,  when  I  tell  ye  who  I  am." 

"  And  who  are  you  ;  pray  ?  " 

*  Maybe  ye  mount  a  hearn  o'  Cris  Rock  ? " 

"What!  Cris  Rock  of  Texas?  He  who  at  Fan- 
ning's " 

"At  Fannin's  massacree  war  shot  dead,  and  kim  alive 
agin." 

"Yes,"  said  the  interrogator,  whose  interrogatory  re- 
ferred to  the  almost  miraculous  escape  of  one  of  the 
betrayed  victims  of  the  Goliad  butchery. 

"  Jess  so,  young  feller.    An'  since  ye  'pear  to  know  some* 


VOLUNTEERS    FOR    TEXAS.  3 

thin'  'bout  me,  I  needn't  tell  ye  I  ain't  no  bill-sticker,  nor 
why  I  'peared  to  show  impartinence  by  putting  in  my  jaw 
when  I  heern  ye  sing  out,  *  I'll  go.'  I  thort  it  wouldn't  need 
much  introduxshun  to  one  as  I  mout  soon  hope  to  call 
kumarade.  Yer  comin'  to  the  rendyvoo  the  night,  ain't 
ye  ? " 

"  Yes  ;  I  intend  doing  so." 

"Wai,  I'll  be  there  myself;  an'  if  ye'll  only  look  high 
enough,  I  reck'n  ye  kin  sight  me  'mong  the  crowd.  'Tain't 
like  to  be  the  shortest  thar,"  he  added,  with  a  smile  that 
bespoke  pride  in  his  superior  stature,  "  tho'  ye'll  see  some 
tall  'uns  too.  Anyhow,  jest  look  out  for  Cris  Rock  :  and, 
when  foun',  that  chile  may  be  of  some  sarvice  to  ye." 

"  I  shall  do  so,"  rejoined  the  other,  whose  good  humour 
had  become  quite  restored. 

About  to  bid  good-bye,  Rock  held  out  a  hand,  broad  as 
the  blade  of  a  canoe-paddle.  It  was  freely  taken  by  the 
stranger,  who,  while  shaking  it,  saw  that  he  was  being  ex- 
amined from  head  to  foot. 

"  Look  hyar ! "  pursued  the  Colossus,  as  if  struck  by 
some  thought  which  a  closer  scrutiny  of  the  young  man's 
person  had  suggested  ;  "  hev  ye  ever  did  any  sogerin'  ? 
Ye've  got  the  look  o'  it." 

"  I  was  educated  in  a  military  school — that's  all." 

"  Where  ?     In  the  States  ?  " 

"No.     I  am  from  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic." 

a  Oh  !  A  Britisher.  Wai,  that  don't  make  no  difference 
in  Texas.  Thar's  all  sorts  thar.  English,  ain't  ye  ?  " 

''No,"  prdmptly  answered  the  stranger,  with  a  slight 
scornful  curling  of  the  lip :  "  I'm  an  Irishman,  and  not  one 
or  those  who  deny  it" 

"  All  the  better  for  that.  Thar's  a  bit  of  the  same  blood 
somewhar  in  my  own  veins,  out  o'  a  grandmother,  I  b'lieve, 
as  kim  over  the  mountains  into  Kaintuck,  'long  wi'  Dan 


4  THE    FKFF,    LANCES. 

Boone  an'  his  lot.  So  ye've  been  eddycated  at  a  milintary 
school,  then  ?  D'ye  unnerstan'  anything  about  the  trainin' 
o'  sogers  ? " 

"  Certainly  I  do." 

"Dog-goned,  ef  you  ain't  the  man  we  want!  How'd 
ye  like  to  be  an  officer  ?  I  reck'n  ye're  best  fit  for  that." 

"Of  course  I  should  like  it  ;  but  as  a  stranger  among 
you,  I  shouldn't  stand  much  chance  of  being  elected.  You 
choose  your  officers,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Sartin,  we  eelect  'em  ;  an'  we're  goin'  to  hold  the  eelec- 
tions  this  very  night.  Lookee  hyar,  young  fellur  ;  I  like 
yer  looks,  an'  I've  seed  proof  ye've  got  the  stuff  in  ye. 
Now,  I  want  to  tell  ye  somethin'  ye  oughter  to  know.  I 
belong  to  this  company  that's  jest  a  formin',  and  thar's  a 
fellur  settin'  hisself  up  to  be  its  capting.  He's  a  sort  o' 
half  Spanish,  half  French  Creole,  o'  Noo-Orleans  hyar,  an* 
we  old  Texans  don't  think  much  o'  him.  But  thar's  only 
a  few  o'  us  ;  while  'mong  the  Orleans  city  fellurs  as  are 
goin'  out  to,  he's  got  a  big  pop'larity  by  standin'  no  eend 
o'  drinks.  He  ain't  a  bad  lookin'  sort  for  sogerin',  and  has 
seen  milintary  sarvice,  they  say.  F'r  all  that,  thar's  a  hang- 
dog glint  'bout  his  eyes  this  chile  don't  like  ;  neither  do 
some  o'  the  others.  So,  young  un,  if  you'll  come  down 
to  the  rendyvoo  in  good  time,  an'  make  a  speech — you  kin 
speechify,  can't  ye  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  I  could  say  something." 

"  Wai,  you  stump  it,  an'  I'll  put  in  a  word  or  two,  an'  then 
we'll  perpose  ye  for  capting  ;  an'  who  knows  we  mayent 
git  the  majority  arter  all  ?  You'er  willin'  to  try,  ain't  ye  ?  " 

"Quite  willing,"  answered  the  Irishman,  with  an  rm- 
phasis  which  showed  how  much  the  proposal  was  to  hi* 
mind.  "  But  why,  Mr.  Rock,  are  you  not  a  candidate  your- 
self? You  have  seen  service,  and  would  make  a  pood 
officer,  I  should  say." 


VOLUNTEERS    FOR    TEXAS.  5 

"  Me  kandydate  for  officer !  Wai,  I'm  big  enough,  thet's 
true,  and  ef  you  like,  ugly  enuf.  But  I  ain't  no  ambee- 
shum  thet  way.  Besides,  this  chile  knows  nothin'  'bout 
drill ;  an'  that's  what's  wanted  bad.  Ye  see,  we  ain't  had 
much  reg'lar  sogerin1  in  Texas.  Thar's  whar  the  Mexikins 
hev  the  advantage  o'  us,  an'  thar's  whar  you'll  hev  the 
same  if  you'll  consent  to  stan*.  You  say  you  will  ?  " 

"  I  will,  if  you  wish  it." 

"  All  square  then,"  returned  the  Texan,  once  more  tak- 
ing his prottgt  by.  the  hand,  and  giving  it  a  squeeze  like 
the  grip  of  a  grizzly  bear.  "  I'll  be  on  the  look-out  for  ye. 
Meanwhile,  thar's  six  hours  to  the  good  yet  afore  it  git 
rundown.  So  go  and  purpar'  yur  speech,  while  I  slide 
roun'  among  the  fellurs,  an1  do  a  leetle  for  ye  in  the  line  o1 
canvassin'." 

After  a  final  bruin-like  pressure  of  the  hand  the  giant 
had  commenced  striding  away,  when  he  came  again  to  a 
halt,  uttering  a  loud  "  Hiloo  !  " 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  inquired  the  young  Irishman. 

"  It  seems  that  Cris  Rock  air  'bout  one  o'  the  biggest 
nummorskulls  in  all  Noo-Orleans.  Only  to  think  !  I  was 
about  startin'  to  take  the  stump  for  a  kandydate  'ithout 
knowin'  the  first  letter  o'  his  name.  How  wur  ye  crissened, 
young  fellur  ?  " 

"  Kearney — Florence  Kearney." 

"  Florence,  ye  say  ?     Ain't  that  a  woman's  name  ?" 

"  True  ;  but  in  Ireland  many  men  bear  it." 

"Wai,  it  do  seem  a  little  kewrious ;  but  it'll  do  right 
slick,  and  the  Kearney  part  soun's  well.  I've  hern  speak  o1 
Kate  Kearney  ;  thar's  a  song  'bout  the  gurl.  Mout  ye  be 
any  connexshun  o'  hern  ?  " 

a  No,  Mr.  Rock  ;  not  that  I'm  aware  of.  She  was  a 
Killarney  woman.  I  was  born  a  little  further  north  on  the 
green  island/ 


6  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

"  Wai,  no  matter  what  part  o*  it,  yur  are  welkim  to 
Texas,  I  reck'n,  or  the  States  eyther.  Kearney — I  like 
the  name.  It  hev  a  good  ring,  an'  it'll  soun'  all  the  better 
wi'  '  Capting '  for  a  handle  to  't— the  which  it  shall  hev 
afore  ten  o'clock  this  night,  if  Cris  Rock  ain't  astray  in  his 
reck'nin'.  But  see  as  ye  kum  early  to  the  rendyvoo,  so  as 
to  hev  time  for  a  talk  wi'  the  boys.  Thar's  a  somethin1 
in  that ;  an'  if  ye've  got  a  ten  dollar  bill  to  spare,  spend  it 
on  drinks  all  round.  Thar's  a  good  deal  in  that  too." 

So  saying,  the  Texan  strode  off,  leaving  Florence  Kear- 
ney to  reflect  upon  the  counsel  so  opportunely  extended. 


CHAPTER  II. 
A  LADY  IN  THE  CASE. 

WHO  Florence  Kearney  was,  and  what  his  motive  for 
becoming  a  "  filibuster,"  the  reader  shall  be  told  without 
much  tediousness  of  detail. 

Some  six  months  before  the  encounter  described,  he 
had  landed  from  a  Liverpool  cotton  ship  on  the  Levee 
of  New  Orleans.  A  gentleman  by  birth  and  a  soldier- 
scholar  by  education,  he  had  gone  to  the  New  World 
with  the  design  to  complete  his  boyhood's  training  by  a 
course  of  travel,  and  prepare  himself  for  the  enacting  the 
metier  of  a  man.  That  this  travel  should  be  westward, 
over  fresh  untrodden  fields,  instead  of  along  the  hackneyed 
highways  of  the  European  tourist,  was  partly  due  to  the 
counsels  of  a  tutor — who  had  himself  visited  the  New  World 
— and  partly  to  his  own  natural  inclinations. 

In  the  course  of  his  college  studies  he  had  read  the 
romantic  history  of  Cortez's  conquest,  and  his  mind  had 
become  deeply  imbued  with  the  picturesqueness  of  Mexi- 
can scenes  ;  so  that  among  the  fancies  of  his  youthful  life 
one  of  the  pleasantest  was  that  of  some  day  visiting  the 
land  of  Anahuac,  and  its  ancient  capital,  Tenochtitlan. 
After  leaving  college  the  dream  had  grown  into  a  deter- 
mination, and  was  now  in  the  act  of  being  realised.  In 
New  Orleans  he  was  so  far  on  his  way.  He  came  thither 
expecting  to  obtain  passage  in  a  coasting  vessel  to  some 
Mexican  seaport — Tampico  or  Vera  Cruz. 

Why  he  had  not  at  once  continued  his  journey  thither 


8  THE  FREE  LANCES. 

was  due  to  no  difficulty  in  finding  such  a  vessel.  There 
were  schooners  sailing  every  week  to  either  of  the  above 
ports  that  would  have  accommodated  him,  yet  still  he 
lingered  in  New  Orleans.  His  reason  for  thus  delaying 
was  one  far  from  uncommon — this  being  a  lady  with  whom 
he  had  fallen  in  love. 

At  first  the  detention  had  been  due  to  a  more  sensible 
cause.  Not  speaking  the  Spanish  language,  which  is  also 
that  of  Mexico,  he  knew  that  while  travelling  through  the 
latter  country  he  would  have  to  go  as  one  dumb.  In  New 
Orleans  he  might  easily  obtain  a  teacher ;  and  having 
sought  soon  found  one,  in  the  person  of  Don  Ignacio  Val- 
verde, — a  refugee  Mexican  gentleman,  a  victim  of  the  tyrant 
Santa  Anna,  who,  banished  from  his  country,  had  been  for 
several  years  resident  in  the  States  as  an  exile.  And  an 
exile  in  straitened  circumstances,  one  of  the  hardest  con- 
ditions of  life.  Once,  in  his  own  country,  a  wealthy  land- 
owner, Don  Ignacio  was  now  compelled  to  give  lessons  in 
Spanish  to  such  stray  pupils  as  might  chance  to  present 
themselves.  Among  the  rest,  by  chance  came  Florence 
Kearney,  to  whom  he  had  commenced  teaching  it. 

But  while  the  latter  was  making  himself  master  of  the 
Andalusian  tongue,  he  also  learnt  to  love  one  who  spoke 
it  as  purely,  and  far  more  sweetly,  than  Don  Ignacio, 
This  was  Don  Ignacio's  daughter. 


After  parting  with  Cris  Rock,  the  young  Irishman 
advanced  along  the  Levee,  his  head  bowed  forward,  with 
eyes  to  the  ground,  as  if  examining  the  oyster  shells  that 
thickly  bestrewed  the  path  ;  anon  giving  his  glance  to  the 
river,  as  though  stirred  by  its  majestic  movement.  But 
he  was  thinking  neither  of  the  empty  bivalves,  nor  the  flow 
of  the  mighty  stream.  Nor  vet  of  the  speech  he  had 


A    LADY   IN   THE   CASE.  9 

promised  to  make  that  same  night  at  the  rendezvous  of 
filibusters.  Instead  he  was  reflecting  upon  that  affair 
of  the  heart,  from  which  he  had  been  for  some  time 
suffering. 

To  make  known  his  feelings  it  is  necessary  to  repeat 
what  passed  through  his  mind  after  he  had  separated  from 
the  Texan. 

"  There's  something  odd  in  all  this,"  soliloquised  he,  as 
he  strode  on.  "  Here  am  I  going  to  fight  for  a  country 
I  care  nothing  about,  and  against  one  with  which  I  have 
no  cause  of  quarrel.  On  the  contrary,  I  have  come  four 
thousand  miles 'to  visit  the  latter,  as  a  peaceful  friendly 
traveller.  Now  I  propose  making  entry  into  it,  sword  in 
hand,  as  an  enemy  and  invader  !  The  native  land,  too,  of 
her  who  has  taken  possession  of  my  heart !  Ah  !  therein 
lies  the  very  reason  :  /  have  not  got  hers.  I  fear — nay,  I 
am  certain  of  that,  from  what  I  saw  this  morning.  Bah  ! 
What's  the  use  of  thinking  about  it,  or  about  her?  Luisa 
Valverde  cares  no  more  for  me  than  the  half-score  of 
others — these  young  Creole  'bloods,'  as  they  call  them- 
selves— who  flit  like  butterflies  around  her.  She's  a  sweet 
flower  from  which  all  of  them  wish  to  sip.  Only  one  will 
succeed,  and  that's  Carlos  Santander.  I  hate  the  very 
sight  of  the  man.  I  believe  him  to  be  a  cheat  and  a 
scoundrel.  No  matter  to  her.  The  cheat  she  won't  under- 
stand ;  and,  if  report  speak  true  of  her  country  and  race, 
the  scoundrel  would  scarcely  qualify  him  either.  Merciful 
heavens !  to  think  I  should  love  this  Mexican  girl,  warned 
as  I've  been  about  her  country-women  !  'Tis  a  fascination, 
and  the  sooner  I  get  away  from  it  and  her  presence,  the 
better  it  may  be  for  me.  Now,  this  Texan  business  offers 
a  chalice  of  escaping  the  peril.  If  I  find  she  cares  not  for 
me,  it  will  be  a  sort  of  satisfaction  to  think  that  in  fighting 
against  her  country  I  may  in  a  way  humiliate  herself. 


IO  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

Ah,  Texas  !  If  you  find  in  me  a  defender,  it  will  not  be 
from  any  patriotic  love  of  you,  but  to  bury  bitter  thoughts 
in  oblivion." 

The  chain  of  his  reflections,  momentarily  interrupted, 
was  after  a  time  continued  :  "  My  word,"  he  exclaimed, 
"  there's  surely  something  ominous  in  my  encounter  with 
this  Cris  Rock  !  Destiny  seems  to  direct  me.  Here  am  I 
scheming  to  escape  from  a  thraldom  of  a  siren's  smiles, 
and,  to  do  so,  ready  to  throw  myself  into  the  ranks  of 
a  filibustering  band  !  On  the  instant  a  friend  is  found — a 
patron  who  promises  to  make  me  their  leader !  Shall  I 
refuse  the  favour,  which  fortune  herself  seems  to  offer  ? 
Why  should  I  ?  It  is  fate,  not  chance  ;  and  this  night  at 
their  meeting  I  shall  know  whether  it  is  meant  in  earnest. 
So,  canvass  your  best  for  me,  Cris  Rock  ;  and  I  shall  do 
my  best  to  make  a  suitable  speech.  If  our  united  efforts 
prove  successful,  then  Texas  shall  gain  a  friend,  and  Luisa 
Valverde  lose  one  of  her  lovers." 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  speech — half  boastful,  half 
bitter — Florence  Kearney  had  reached  the  hotel  where  he 
was  stopping — the  celebrated  "  St.  Charles,"  and  entering 
its  grand  saloon,  sat  down  to  reflect  further  on  the  step  he 
was  about  to  take. 


CHAPTER  III. 

OFFICERING  THE  FILIBUSTERS. 

THE  volunteer  rendezvous  was  in  a  tavern,  better  known 
by  the  name  of  "  Coffee  House,"  in  the  street  called  Poy- 
dras.  The  room  which  had  been  chartered  for  the  occasion 
was  of  ample  dimensions,  capable  of  containing  three 
hundred  men.  Drawn  together  by  the  printed  proclama- 
tion that  had  attracted  the  attention  of  the  young  Irishman 
in  his  afternoon  stroll,  two-thirds  of  the  above  number  Lad 
collected,  and  of  these  at  least  one-half  were  determined 
upon  proceeding  to  Texas. 

It  was  a  crowd  composed  of  heterogeneous  elements — 
such  as  has  ever  been,  and  ever  will  be,  the  men  who 
volunteer  for  a  military,  more  especially  a  filibustering! 
expedition. 

Present  in  the  hall  were  representatives  of  almost  every 
civilised  nation  upon  earth.  Even  some  that  could  scarce 
boast  of  civilization  ;  for  among  the  faces  seen  around  the 
room  were  many  so  covered  with  beards,  and  so  browned 
with  sun,  as  to  tell  of  long  sojourn  in  savage  parts,  if  not 
association  with  the  savages  themselves.  In  obedience  to 
the  counsels  of  the  Texan,  Florence  Kearney — a  candidate 
for  command  over  this  motley  crew — made  early  appear- 
ance in  their  midst  Not  so  early  as  to  find  that,  on 
entering  the  room,  he  was  a  stranger  to  its  occupants. 
Cris  Rock  had  been  there  before  him,  along  with  a  half- 
score  of  his  confreres — old  Texans  of  the  pure  breed— who 

11 


12  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

having  taken  part  in  most  of  the  struggles  of  the  young 
Republic,  had  strayed  back  to  New  Orleans,  partly  for  a 
spree,  and  partly  to  recruit  fresh  comrades  to  aid  them  in 
propagating  that  principle  which  had  first  taken  them  to 
Texas — the  "  Monroe  Doctrine." 

To  these  the  young  Irishman  was  at  once  confidentially 
introduced,  and  "stood  drinks"  freely.  He  would  have 
done  so  without  care  of  what  was  to  come  of  it ;  since  it 
was  but  the  habit  of  his  generous  nation.  Nor  would  this 
of  itself  have  given  him  any  great  advantage,  for  not  long 
after  entering  the  room,  he  discovered  that  not  only  drinks, 
but  dollars,  were  distributed  freely  by  the  opposition  party, 
who  seemed  earnestly  bent  upon  making  a  captain  of  their 
candidate. 

As  yet  Kearney  had  not  looked  upon  his  competitor, 
and  was  even  ignorant  of  his  name.  Soon,  however,  it  was 
communicated  to  him,  just  as  the  man  himself,  escorted 
by  a  number  of  friends,  made  his  appearance  in  the  room. 
The  surprise,  of  the  young  Irishman  may  be  imagined, 
when  he  saw  before  him  one  already  known,  and  too  well 
known, — his  rival  in  the  affections  of  Luisa  Valverde  ! 

Yes;  Carlos  Santander  was  also  a  candidate  for  the 
command  of  the  filibusters. 

To  Kearney  the  thing  was  a  surprise,  and  something 
besides.  He  knew  Santander  to  be  on  terms  of  very 
friendly  and  intimate  relationship  not  only  with  Don 
Ignacio,  but  other  Mexicans  he  had  met  at  the  exile's 
house.  Strange,  that  the  Creole  should  be  aspiring  to  the 
leadership  of  a  band  about  to  invade  their  country  !  For 
it  was  invasion  the  Texans  now  talked  of,  in  retaliation  for 
a  late  raid  of  the  Mexicans  to  their  capital,  San  Antonio. 
But  these  banished  Mexicans  being  enemies  of  Santa 
Anna  it  was  after  all  not  so  unnatural.  By  humiliating 
the  Dictator,  they  would  be  aiding  their  own  party  to  get 


OFFICERING   THE    FILIBUSTERS.  1 3 

back  into  power — even  though  the  help  came  from  their 
hereditary  foemen,  the  squatters  of  Texas. 

All  this  passed  through  the  mind  of  the  young  Irishman, 
though  not  altogether  to  satisfy  him.  The  presence  of 
Santander  there,  as  aspirant  for  leadership,  seemed  strange 
notwithstanding. 

But  he  had  no  opportunity  for  indulging  in  conjectures 
— only  time  to  exchange  frowns  at  his  rival  and  competitor, 
when  a  man  in  undress  uniform — a  Texan  colonel — who 
acted  as  chairman  of  the  meeting,  mounting  upon  a  table, 
cried  "  Silence  !  "  and,  after  a  short  pithy  speech,  proposed 
that  the  election  of  officers  should  at  once  proceed.  The 
proposal  was  seconded,  no  one  objecting ;  and,  without 
further  parley,  the  "  balloting  "  began. 

There  was  neither  noise  nor  confusion.  Indeed,  the 
assembly  was  one  of  the  quietest,  and  without  any  street 
crowd  outside.  There  were  reasons  for  observing  a  certain 
secrecy  in  the  proceedings;  for,  although  the  movement 
was  highly  popular  all  over  the  States,  there  were  some 
compromising  points  of  International  law,  and  there  had 
been  talk  of  Government  interference. 

The  election  was  conducted  in  the  most  primitive  and 
simple  fashion.  The  names  of  the  candidates  were  written 
upon  slips  of  paper,  and  distributed  throughout  the  room 
— only  the  members  who  had  formed  the  organization 
having  the  right  to  vote.  Each  of  them  <*hose  the  slip 
bearing  the  name  of  him  he  intended  to  vote  for,  and 
dropped  it  into  a  hat  carried  round  for  the  purpose.  The 
other  he  threw  away,  or  slipped  into  his  Docket. 

When  all  had  deposited  their  ballots,  the  hat  was  cap- 
sized, and  the  bits  of  paper  shaken  out  upon  the  table. 
The  chairman,  assisted  by  two  other  men,  examined  the 
votes  and  counted  them.  Then  ensued  a  short  interval  of 
silence,  Urvfen  only  by  an  occasional  word  of  direction 


14  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

from  the  chairman,  with  the  murmuring  hum  of  the  ex- 
aminers, and  at  length  came  in  a  clear  loud  voice — that  of 
the  Texan  colonel — "  TJte  votes  are  in  favour  of  Kearney  ! 
Florence  Kearney  elected  Captain  by  a  majority  of  thirty - 
three? 

A  cheer  greeted  the  announcement,  in  which  something 
like  a  screech  from  Cris  Rock  could  be  heard  above  all 
voices ;  while  the  giant  himself  was  seen  rushing  through 
the  crowd  to  clasp  the  hand  of  his  prottge*,  whom  he  had 
voluntarily  assisted  in  promoting  to  a  rank  above  himself. 

During  the  excitement,  the  defeated  candidate  was 
observed  to  skulk  out  of  the  room.  Those  who  saw  him 
go  could  tell  by  his  look  of  sullen  disappointment  he  had 
no  intention  of  returning ;  and  that  the  filibustering  cohort 
was  not  likely  to  have  the  name,  "  Carlos  Santander,"  any 
longer  on  its  roll-call. 

He  and  his  were  soon  forgotten.  The  lieutenants  were 
yet  to  be  chosen.  One  after  another — first,  second,  and 
brevet — was  proposed,  balloted  for,  and  elected  in  the  same 
way  as  the  captain. 

Then  there  was  a  choice  of  sergeants  and  corporals,  till 
the  organisation  was  pronounced  complete.  In  fine,  fell  a 
shower  of  congratulations,  with  "  drinks  all  round,"  and  for 
several  successive  rounds.  Patriotic  speeches  als^  in  the 
true  "  spread-eagle "  style,  with  applauding  cheers,  and 
jokes  about  Santa  Anna  and  his  cork-leg  ;  when  the  com- 
pany at  length  separated,  after  singing  the  "  Star- Spangled 
Banner." 


CHAPTER   IV. 
AN  INVITATION  TO  SUPPER. 

FLORENCE  KEARNEY,  parting  from  his  new  friends,  the 

filibusters,  sauntered  forth  upon  the  street 

On  reaching  the  nearest  corner  he  came  to  a  stop,  as  if 
undecided  which  way  to  turn. 

Not  because  he  had  lost  his  way.  His  hotel  was  but 
three  blocks  off ;  and  he  had,  during  his  short  sojourn  in 
the  Crescent  City,  become  acquainted  with  almost  every 
part  of  it.  It  was  not  ignorance  of  the  locality,  therefore, 
which  was  causing  him  to  hesitate  ;  but  something  very 
different,  as  the  train  of  his  thoughts  will  tell. 

"  Don  Ignacio,  at  least,  will  expect  me — wish  me  to 
come,  whether  she  do  or  not.  I  accepted  his  invitation, 
and  cannot  well — oh !  had  I  known  what  I  do  now — seen 

wha*t  I  saw  this  morning Bah  !  I  shall  return  to  the 

hotel  and  never  more  go  near  her ! " 

But  he  did  not  return  to  his  hotel  ;  instead,  still  stood 
irresolute,  as  if  the  thing  were  worth  further  considering. 

What  made  the  young  man  act  thus  ?  Simply  a  belief 
that  Luisa  Valverde  did  not  love  him,  and,  therefore,  would 
not  care  to  have  him  as  a  companion  at  supper ;  for  it  was 
to  supper  her  father  had  asked  him.  On  the  day  before  he 
had  received  the  invitation,  and  signified  acceptance  of  it. 
But  he  had  seen  something  since  which  had  made  him  half 
repent  having  done  so  ;  a  man,  Carlos  Santander,  standing 
beside  the  woman  he  loved,  bending  over  her  till  his  lips 

almost  touched  her  forehead,  whispering  words  that  were 

is 


1 6  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

heard,  and,  to  all  appearance,  heeded.  What  the  words 
were  Florence  Kearney  knew  not,  but  could  easily  guess 
their  nature.  They  could  only  be  of  love  ;  for  he  saw  the 
carmine  on  her  cheeks  as  she  listened  to  them. 

He  had  no  right  to  call  the  young  lady  to  an  account 
During  all  his  intercourse  with  Don  Ignacio,  he  had  seen 
the  daughter  scarce  half  a  score  times ;  then  only  while 
passing  out  and  in — to  or  from  his  lessons.  Now  and 
then  a  few  snatches  of  conversation  had  occurred  between 
them  upon  any  chance  theme — the  weather,  the  study  he 
was  prosecuting  (how  he  wished  she  had  been  his  teacher), 
and  the  peculiarities  of  the  New  Orleans  life,  to  which  they 
were  both  strangers.  And  only  once  had  she  appeared  to 
take  more  than  an  ordinary  interest  in  his  speech.  This, 
when  he  talked  of  Mexico,  and  having  come  from  his  own 
far  land,  ''  Irlandesa,"  with  an  enthusiastic  desire  to  visit 
hers,  telling  her  of  his  intention  to  do  so.  On  this  occasion 
he  had  ventured  to  speak  of  what  he  had  heard  about 
Mexican  banditti ;  still  more  of  the  beauty  of  the  Mexican 
ladies — naively  adding  that  he  would  no  doubt  be  in  less 
danger  of  losing  his  life  than  his  heart. 

To  this  he  thought  she  had  listened,  or  seemed  to  listen, 
with  more  than  ordinary  attention,  looking  pensive  as  she 
made  reply. 

"  Yes,  Don  Florencio !  you  will  see  much  in  Mexico 
likely  to  give  you  gratification.  Tis  true,  indeed,  that 
many  of  my  countrywomen  are  fair — some  very  fair. 
Among  them  you  will  soon  forget " 

Kearney's  heart  beat  wildly,  hoping  he  would  hear  the 
monosyllable  "  me."  But  the  word  was  not  spoken.  In  its 
place  the  phrase  "  us  poor  exiles,"  with  which  somewhat 
commonplace  remark  the  young  Mexican  concluded  her 
speech. 

And  still  there  was  something  in  what  she  ha.d  said,  but 


AN   INVITATION   TO   SUPPER.  If 

more  in  her  manner  of  saying  it,  which  made  pleasant 
impression  upon  him — something  in  her  tone  that  touched 
a  chord  already  making  music  in  his  heart.  If  it  did  not 
give  him  surety  of  her  love,  it,  for  the  time,  hindered  him 
from  despairing  of  it. 

All  this  had  occurred  at  an  interview  he  had  with  her 
only  the  day  before  ;  and,  since,  sweet  thoughts  and  hopes 
were  his.  But  on  the  same  morning  they  were  shattered 
— crushed  out  by  the  spectacle  he  had  witnessed,  and  the 
interpretation  of  those  whispered  words  he  had  failed  to 
hear.  It  had  chased  all  hope  out  of  his  heart,  and  sent 
him  in  wild,  aimless  strides  along  the  street,  just  in  the 
right  frame  of  mind  for  being  caught  by  that  call  which 
had  attracted  his  eyes  on  the  poster — 

"VOLUNTEERS   FOR   TEXAS." 

And  just  so  had  he  been  caught ;  and,  as  described, 
entered  among  the  filibustering  band  to  be  chosen  its  chief. 

To  the  young  Irishm*  it  was  a  day  of  strange  experi- 
ences, varying  as  the  changes  of  a  kaleidoscope  ;  more  like 
a  dream  than  reality  ;  and  after  reflecting  upon  it  all,  he 
thus  interrogated  himself, — 

"  Shall  I  see  her  again,  or  not  ?  Why  not  ?  If  she's 
lost,  she  cannot  be  worse  lost  by  my  having  another  inter- 
view with  her.  Nor  could  I  feel  worse  than  I  do  now. 
Ah  !  with  this  laurel  fresh  placed  upon  my  brow !  What 
if  I  tell  her  of  it — tell  her  I  am  about  to  enter  her  native 
land  as  an  invader  ?  If  she  care  for  her  country,  that 
would  spite  her ;  and  if  I  find  she  cares  not  for  me,  her 
spite  would  give  me  pleasure." 

It  was  not  an  amiable  mood  for  a  lover  contemplating  a 
visit  to  his  sweetheart.  Still,  natural  enough  under  the 
circumstances  ;  and  Florence  Kearney,  wavering  no  longer, 
turned  his  steps  towards  that  part  of  the  city  where  dwelt 
Don  Ignacio  Valverde. 

C 


CHAPTER  V. 
A  STUDIED  INSULT. 

IN  a  small  house  of  the  third  Municipality,  in  the  street 
called  Casa  Calvo,  dwelt  Don  Ignacio  Valverde.  It  was  a 
wooden  structure — a  frame  dwelling — of  French-Creole 
fashion,  consisting  of  but  a  single  story,  with  casement 
windows  that  opened  on  a  verandah,  in  the  Southern 
States  termed  piazza ;  this  being  but  little  elevated  above 
the  level  of  the  outside  street.  Besides  Don  Ignacio  and  his 
daughter,  but  one  other  individual  occupied  the  house— 
their  only  servant,  a  young  girl  of  Mexican  nativity  and 
mixed  blood,  half  white,  half  Indian — in  short,  a  mestiza. 
The  straitened  circumstances  of  the  exile  forbad  a  more  ex- 
pensive establishment.  Still,  the  insignia  within  were  not 
those  of  pinched  poverty.  The  sitting-room,  if  small,  was 
tastefully  furnished,  while,  among  other  chattels  speaking 
of  refinement,  were  several  volumes  of  books,  a  harp  and 
a  guitar,  with  accompaniment  of  sheets  of  music.  The 
strings  of  these  instruments  Luisa  Valverde  knew  how  to 
touch  with  the  skill  of  a  professional,  both  being  common 
in  her  own  country. 

On  that  night,  when  the  election  of  the  filibustering 
officers  was  being  held  in  Poydras  Street,  her  father,  alone 
with  her  in  the  same  sitting-room,  asked  her  to  play  the 
harp  to  the  accompaniment  of  a  song.  Seating  herself  to 
the  instrument,  she  obeyed,  singing  one  of  those  romanzas 
in  which  the  language  of  Cervantes  is  so  rich.  It  was,  in 
fact,  the  old  song  "  El  Travador,"  from  which  has  been 

18 


A   STUDIED   INSULT.  »C 

filched  the  music  set  to  Mrs.  Norton's  beautiful  lay,  "  Love 
not."  But  on  this  night  the  spirit  of  the  Mexican  senorita 
was  not  with  her  song.  Soon  as  it  was  finished,  and  her 
father  had  become  otherwise  engaged,  she  stepped  out  of 
the  room,  and,  standing  in  the  piazza,  glanced  through  the 
trellised  lattice-work  that  screened  it  from  the  street.  She 
evidently  expected  some  one  to  come  that  way.  And  as 
her  father  had  invited  Florence  Kearney  to  supper,  and 
she  knew  of  it,  it  would  look  as  if  he  were  the  expected 
one. 

If  so,  she  was  disappointed  for  a  time,  though  a  visitor 
made  his  appearance.  The  door  bell,  pulled  from  the 
outside,  soon  after  summoned  Pepita,  the  Mexican  servant, 
to  the  front,  and  presently  a  heavy  footfall  on  the  wooden 
steps  of  the  porch,  told  of  a  man  stepping  upon  the 
piazza. 

Meanwhile  the  young  lady  had  returned  within  the 
room  ;  but  the  night  being  warm,  the  hinged  casement 
stood  ajar,  and  she  could  see  through  it  the  man  thus 
entering.  An  air  of  disappointment,  almost  chagrin,  came 
over  her  countenance,  as  the  moonlight  disclosed  to  her 
view  the  dark  visage  of  Carlos  Santander. 

" Pasa  V.  adientro,  Senor  Don  Carlos"  said  her  father, 
also  recognising  their  visitor  through  the  casement ;  and 
in  a  moment  after  the  Creole  stepped  into  the  room,  Pepita 
placing  a  chair  for  him. 

"Though,"  continued  Don  Ignacio,  "we  did  not  expect 
to  have  the  honour  of  your  company  this  evening,  you  are 
always  welcome." 

Notwithstanding  this  polite  speech,  there  was  a  certain 
constraint  or  hesitancy  in  the  way  it  was  spoken,  that  told  of 
some  insincerity.  It  was  evident  that  on  that  night  at  least 
Don  Carlos'  host  looked  upon  him  in  the  light  of  an  in- 
truder. Evidence  of  the  same  was  still  more  marked  on  the 


2O  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

countenance,  as  in  the  behaviour  of  Don  I^nacio's  daughter. 
Instead  of  a  smile  to  greet  the  new-comer,  something  like 
a  frown  sat  upon  her  beautiful  brow,  while  every  now  and 
then  a  half-angry  flash  from  her  large  liquid  eyes,  directed 
towards  him,  might  have  told  him  he  was  aught  but  wel- 
come. Clearly  it  was  not  for  him  she  had  several  times 
during  the  same  night  passed  out  into  the  piazza  and 
looked  through  its  lattice-work. 

In  truth,  both  father  and  daughter  seemed  disturbed  by 
Santander's  presence,  both  expecting  one  whom,  for 
different  reasons,  they  did  not  desire  him  to  meet.  If  the 
Creole  noticed  their  repugnance,  he  betrayed  no  sign  of  it. 
Don  Carlos  Santander,  besides  being  physically  handsome, 
was  a  man  of  rare  intellectual  strength,  with  many  accom- 
plishments, among  others  the  power  of  concealing  his 
thoughts  under  a  mask  of  imperturbable  coolness.  Still, 
on  this  night  his  demeanour  was  different  from  its  wont. 
He  looked  flurried  and  excited,  his  eyes  scintillating  as 
with  anger  at  some  affront  lately  offered  him,  and  the  sting 
of  which  still  rankled  in  his  bosom.  Don  Ignacio  noticed 
this,  but  said  nothing.  Indeed,  he  seemed  to  stand  in  awe 
of  his  guest,  as  though  under  some  mysterious  influence. 
So  was  he,  and  here  it  may  as  well  be  told.  Santander, 
though  by  birth  an  American  and  a  native  of  New  Orleans, 
was  of  Mexican  parentage,  and  still  regarded  himself  as  a 
citizen  of  the  country  of  his  ancestors.  Only  to  his  very 
intimates  was  it  known  that  he  held  a  very  high  place  in  the 
confidence  of  Mexico's  Dictator.  But  Don  Ignacio  knew 
this,  and  rested  certain  hopes  upon  it.  More  than  once 
had  Santander,  for  motives  that  will  presently  appear, 
hinted  to  him  the  possibility  of  a  return  to  his  own  land, 
with  restoration  of  the%  estates  he  had  forfeited.  And  the 
exiled  patriot,  weaned  with  long  waiting,  was  at  length 
willing  to  lend  an  ear  to  conditions,  which,  in  other  days, 


A    STUDIED    INSULT.  21 

he  might  have  spurned  as  humiliating  if  not  actually  dis- 
honourable. 

It  was  to  talk  of  these  Santander  had  now  presented 
himself;  and  his  host  suspecting  it,  gave  the  young  lady 
a  side  look,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  Leave  the  room,  Luisita." 

She  was  but  too  glad  to  obey.  Just  then  she  preferred 
a  turn  upon  the  piazza ;  and  into  this  she  silently  glided, 
leaving  her  father  alone  with  the  guest  who  had  so  inoppor- 
tunely intruded. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  repeat  what  passed  between  the  two 
men.  Their  business  was  to  bring  to  a  conclusion  a  com- 
pact they  had  already  talked  of,  though  only  in  general 
terms.  It  had  reference  to  the  restitution  of  Don  Ignacio's 
confiscated  estates,  with,  of  course,  also  the  ban  of  exile 
being  removed  from  him.  The  price  of  all  this,  the  hand 
of  his  daughter  given  to  Carlos  Santander.  It  was  the 
Creole  who  proposed  these  terms,  and  insisted  upon  them, 
even  to  the  humiliation  of  himself.  Madly  in  love  with 
Luisa  Valverde,  he  suspected  that  on  her  side  there  was  no 
reciprocity  of  the  passion.  But  he  would  have  her  hand  if 
he  could  not  her  heart. 

On  that  night  the  bargain  was  not  destined  to  reach  a 
conclusion,  their  conference  being  interrupted  by  the 
tread  of  booted  feet,  just  ascending  the  front  steps,  and 
crossing  the  floor  of  the  piazza.  This  followed  by  an 
exchange  of  salutations,  in  which  the  voice  of  Luisa 
Valverde  was  heard  mingling  with  that  of  a  man. 

Don  Ignacio  looked  more  troubled  than  surprised. 
He  knew  who  was  there.  But  when  the  words  spoken 
outside  reached  the  ears  of  Carlos  Santander,  first,  in 
openly  exchanged  salutations  and  then  whispers  seem- 
ingly secret  and  confidential,  he  could  no  longer  keep 
his  seat,  but  springing  up,  exclaimed, — 

"  Carrai!     It's  that  dog  of  an  Irlandes  !  " 


22  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

"  Hish  ! "  continued  his  host  "  The  Seflor  Florencio 
will  hear  you/' 

"  I  wish  him  to  hear  me.  I  repeat  the  expression,  and 
plainly  in  his  own  native  tongue.  I  call  him  a  cur  of  an 
Irishman." 

Outside  was  heard  a  short,  sharp  ejaculation,  as  of  a  man 
startled  by' some  sudden  surprise.  It  was  followed  by  an 
appealing  speech,  this  in  the  softer  accents  of  a  woman. 
Then  the  casement  was  drawn  abruptly  open,  showing 
two  faces  outside.  One,  that  of  Florence  Kearney,  set  in 
an  angry  frown  ;  the  other,  Luisa  Valverde's,  pale  and 
appealing.  An  appeal  idle  and  too  late,  as  she  herself 
saw.  The  air  had  become  charged  with  the  electricity  of 
deadliest  anger,  and  between  the  two  men  a  collision  was 
inevitable. 

Without  waiting  for  a  word  of  invitation,  Kearney 
stepped  over  the  casement  sill,  and  presented  himself  in- 
side the  room.  Don  Ignacio  and  the  Creole  were  by  this 
also  on  their  feet ;  and  for  a  second  or  so  the  three  formed 
a  strange  triangular  tableaii — the  Mexican  with  fear  on  his 
face,  that  of  Santander  still  wearing  the  expression  of  in- 
sult, as  when  he  had  exoJaimed,  "  Cur  of  an  Irishman !  " 
Kearney  confronting  him  with  a  look  of  indignant  defiance. 

There  was  an  interval  of  silence,  as  that  of  calm  pre- 
ceding storm.  It  was  broken  by  the  guest  latest  arrived 
saying  a  few  words  to  his  host,  but  in  calm,  dignified  tone  ; 
an  apology  for  having  unceremoniously  entered  the  room. 

"  No  need  to  apologise,"  promptly  rejoined  Don  Ignacio. 
"  You  are  here  by  my  invitation,  Seflor  Don  Florencio,  and 
my  humble  home  is  honoured  by  your  presence." 

The  Hidalgo  blood,  pure  in  Valverde's  veins,  had  boiled 
up  at  seeing  a  man  insulted  under  his  roof. 

"  Thanks,"  said  the  young  Irishman. 

'  And  now,  sir,"  he  continued,  turning  to  Santander  and 


A   STUDIED    INSULT.  2$ 

regarding  him  with  a  look  of  recovered  coolness,  "  having 
made  my  apology,  I  require  yours" 

"  For  what  ? "  asked  Santander,  counterfeiting  ignor- 
ance. 

"  For  using  language  that  belongs  to  the  bagnios  of  New 
Orleans,  where,  I  doubt  not,  you  spend  most  part  of  your 
time." 

Then,  suddenly  changing  tone  and  expression  of  face,  he 
added, — 

"  Cur  of  a  Creole  !  you  must  take  back  your  words  1 " 

"  Never !  It's  not  my  habit  to  take,  but  to  give  ;  and 
to  you  I  give  this  ! " 

So  saying,  he  stepped  straight  up  to  the  Irishman,  and 
spat  in  his  face. 

Kearney's  heart  was  on  fire.  His  hand  was  already  on 
the  butt  of  his  pistol ;  but,  glancing  behind,  he  saw  that 
pale  appealing  face,  and  with  an  effort  restrained  himself, 
calmly  saying  to  Santander, — 

"  Calling  yourself  a  gentleman,  you  will  no  doubt  have 
a  card  and  address.  May  I  ask  you  to  favour  me  with  it, 
as  to-morrow  I  shall  have  occasion  to  write  to  you  ?  If 
a  scoundrel  such  as  you  can  boast  of  having  a  friend,  you 
may  as  well  give  him  notice  he  will  be  needed.  Your  card, 
sir!" 

M  Take  it ! "  hissed  the  Creole,  flinging  his  card  on  the 
table.  Then  glaring  around,  as  if  his  glance  would  anni- 
hilate all,  he  clutched  hold  of  his  hat,  bowed  haughtily  to 
Don  Ignacio,  looked  daggers  at  his  daughter,  and  strode 
out  into  the  street. 

Though  to  all  appearance  defeated  and  humbled,  he  had 
in  truth  succeeded  in  his  design,  one  he  had  long  planned 
and  cherished  to  bring  about, — a  duel  with  Kearney,  in 
which  his  antagonist  should  be  challenger.  This  would 
give  him  the  choice  of  weapons,  which,  as  he  well  knew, 


24  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

would  ensure  to  him  both  safety  and  success.  Without 
the  certainty  of  this,  Carlos  Santander  would  have  been 
the  last  man  to  provoke  such  an  encounter ;  for,  with  all 
his  air  of  bravaclie,  he  was  the  veriest  of  cowards. 


CHAPTER  VI. 
•To  THE  SALUTE!" 

THE  thick  "  swamp-fog  "  still  hovered  above  the  Crescent 
City,  when  a  carriage,  drawn  by  two  horses,  rolled  out 
through  one  of  its  suburbs,  and  on  along  the  Shell  Road, 
and  in  the  direction  of  Lake  Pontchartrian. 

It  was  a  close  carriage — a  hackney — with  two  men  upon 
the  driver's  seat,  and  three  inside.  Of  these  last,  one  was 
Captain  Florence  Kearney,  and  another  Lieutenant  Francis 
Crittenden,  both  officers  of  the  filibustering  band,  with  titles 
not  two  days  old.  Now  on  the  way  neither  to  Texas  nor 
Mexico,  but  to  the  shore  of  Lake  Pontchartrian,  where 
many  an  affair  of  honour  has  been  settled  by  the  spilling 
of  much  blood.  A  stranger  in  New  Orleans,  and  knowing 
scarce  a  soul,  Kearney  had  bethought  him  of  the  young 
fellow  who  had  been  elected  first  lieutenant,  and  asked  him 
to  act  as  his  second.  Crittenden,  a  Kentuckian,  being  one 
of  those  who  could  not  only  stand  fire,  but  eat  it,  if  the 
occasion  called,  eagerly  responded  to  the  appeal ;  and  they 
were  now  en  route  along  the  Shell  Road  to  meet  Carlos 
Santander  and  whoever  he  might  have  with  him. 

The  third  individual  inside  the  carriage  belonged  to 
that  profession,  one  of  whose  members  usually  makes  the 
third  in  a  duel — the  doctor.  He  was  a  young  man  who, 
in  the  capacity  of  surgeon,  had  attached  himself  to  the 
band  of  filibusters. 

Besides  the  mahogany  box  balanced  upon  his  thigh, 
there  was  another  lying  on  the  spare  bit  of  cushion  beside 


26  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

him,  opposite  to  where  Crittenden  sat  It  was  of  a  some- 
what different  shape  ;  and  no  one  who  had  ever  seen  a 
case  of  duelling  pistols  could  mistake  it  for  aught  else — 
for  it  was  such. 

As  it  had  been  arranged  that  swords  were  to  be  the 
weapons,  and  a  pair  of  these  were  seen  in  a  corner  of  the 
carriage,  what  could  they  be  wanting  with  pistols  ? 

It  was  Kearney  who  put  this  question  ;  now  for  the  first 
time  noticing  what  seemed  to  him  a  superfluous  armament. 
It  was  asked  of  Crittenden,  to  whom  the  pistols  belonged, 
as  might  have  been  learnt  by  looking  at  his  name  engraved 
on  the  indented  silver  plate. 

"  Well,"  answered  the  Kentuckian, "  I'm  no  great  swords- 
man myself.  I  usually  prefer  pistols,  and  thought  it  might 
be  as  well  to  bring  a  pair  along.  I  didn't  much  like  the 
look  of  your  antagonist's  friend,  and  it's  got  into  my  head 
that  before  leaving  the  ground  I  may  have  something  to 
say  to  him  on  my  own  account.  So,  if  it  come  to  that,  I 
shall  take  to  the  barkers." 

Kearney  smiled,  but  said  nothing,  feeling  satisfied  that 
in  case  of  any  treachery,  he  had  the  right  sort  of  man  for 
his  second. 

He  might  have  felt  further  secure,  in  a  still  other  sup- 
porting party,  who  rode  on  the  box  beside  the  driver.  This 
was  a  man  carrying  a  long  rifle,  that  stood  with  the  barrel 
two  feet  above  his  shoulders,  and  the  butt  rested  between 
his  heavily  booted  feet. 

It  was  Cris  Rock,  who  had  insisted  on  coming  along, 
as  he  said,  to  see  that  the  fight  was  all  "  fair  and  squar." 
He  too  had  conceived  an  unfavourable  opinion  of  both  the 
men  to  be  met,  from  what  he  had  seen  of  them  at  the  ren- 
dezvous ;  for  Santander's  second  had  also  been  there.  With 
the  usual  caution  of  one  accustomed  to  fighting  Indians, 
he  always  went  armed,  usually  with  his  long  "  pea  "  rifle. 


"  TO   THE   SALUTE  !  "  2j 

On  reaching  a  spot  of  open  ground  alongside  the  road, 
and  near  the  shore  of  the  lake,  the  carriage  stopped.  It 
was  the  place  of  the  appointed  meeting,  as  arranged  by  the 
seconds  on  the  preceding  day. 

Though  their  antagonists  had  not  yet  arrived,  Kearney 
and  Crittenden  got  out,  leaving  the  young  surgeon  busied 
with  his  cutlery  and  bandage  apparatus. 

"  I  hope  you  won't  have  to  use  them,  doctor,"  remarked 
Kearney,  with  a  light  laugh,  as  he  sprang  out  of  the  car- 
riage. "  I  don't  want  you  to  practise  upon  me  till  we've 
made  conquest  of  Mexico." 

"  And  not  then,  I  trust/'  soberly  responded  the  surgeon. 

Crittenden  followed,  carrying  the  swords  ;  and  the  two, 
leaping  across  the  drain  which  separated  the  road  from  the 
duelling  ground,  took  stand  under  a  tree. 

Rock  remained  firm  on  the  coach-box,  still  seated  and 
silent.  As  the  field  was  full  under  his  view,  and  within 
range  of  his  rifle,  he  knew  that,  like  the  doctor,  he  would 
be  near  enough  if  wanted. 

Ten  minutes  passed — most  of  the  time  in  solemn  silence, 
on  the  part  of  the  principal,  with  some  anxious  thoughts. 
No  matter  how  courageous  a  man  may  be — however  skilled 
in  weapons,  or  accustomed  to  the  deadly  use  of  them — he 
•annot,  at  such  a  crisis,  help  having  a  certain  tremor  of  the 
heart,  if  not  a  misgiving  of  conscience.  He  has  come  there 
to  kill,  or  be  killed  ;  and  the  thought  of  either  should  be 
sufficient  to  disturb  mental  equanimity.  At  such  times, 
he  who  is  not  gifted  with  natural  courage  had  needs  have 
a  good  cause,  and  confidence  in  the  weapon  to  be  used. 
Florence  Kearney  possessed  all  three  ;  and  though  it  was 
his  first  appearance  in  a  duel,  he  had  no  fear  for  the  result 
Even  the  still,  sombre  scene,  with  the  long  grey  moss  hang- 
ing down  from  the  dark  cypress  trees,  like  the  drapery  of 
a  hearse,  failed  to  inspire  him  with  dread.  If,  at  times,  a 


28  THE   FREE   LANCES, 

slight  nervousness  came  over  him,  it  was  instantly  driven 
off  by  the  thought  of  the  insult  he  had  received — and,  per- 
haps also,  a  little  by  the  remembrance  of  those  dark  eyes 
he  fancied  would  flash  proudly  if  he  triumphed,  and  weep 
bitterly  were  he  to  suffer  discomfiture.  Very  different  were 
his  feelings  now  from  those  he  experienced  less  than  forty- 
eight  hours  before,  when  he  was  on  his  way  to  the  house 
of  Don  Ignacio  Valverde.  That  night,  before  leaving  it,  he 
was  good  as  sure  he  possessed  the  heart  of  Don  Ignacio's 
daughter.  Indeed,  she  had  all  but  told  him  so ;  and  was 
this  not  enough  to  nerve  him  for  the  encounter  near  at 
hand  ? 

Very  near  now — close  to  commencing.  The  rumbling 
of  wheels  heard  through  the  drooping  festoonery  of  the 
trees,  'proclaimed  that  a  second  carriage  was  approaching 
along  the  Shell  Road.  It  could  only  be  that  containing  the 
antagonists.  And  it  was  that.  In  less  than  ten  minutes 
after,  it  drew  up  on  the  causeway,  about  twenty  paces  to 
the  rear  of  the  one  already  arrived.  Two  men  got  out,  who, 
although  wrapped  in  cloaks  and  looking  as  large  as  giants 
through  the  thick  mist,  could  be  recognised  as  Carlos  San- 
tander  and  his  second.  There  was  a  third  individual,  who, 
like  the  young  surgeon,  remained  by  the  carriage — no  doubt 
a  doctor,  too, — making  the  duelling  party  symmetrical  and 
complete, 

Santander  and  his  friend  having  pulled  off  their  cloaks 
and  tossed  them  back  into  the  carriage,  turned  towards 
the  wet  ditch,  and  also  leaped  over  it. 

The  first  performed  the  feat  somewhat  awkwardly, 
drooping  down  upon  the  further  bank  with  a  ponderous 
thud.  He  was  a  large,  heavily  built  man — altogether  un- 
like one  possessing  the  activity  necessary  for  a  good 
swordsman. 

His  antagonist  might  have  augured  well  from  his  appa 


*  TO   THE   SALUTE  !  "  29 

rent  clumsiness,  but  for  what  he  had  heard  of  him.  For 
Carlos  Santander,  though  having  the  repute  of  a  swaggerer, 
with  some  suspicion  of  cowardice,  had  proved  himself  a 
dangerous  adversary  by  twice  killing  his  man.  His  second 
— a  French  Creole,  called  Duperon — enjoyed  a  similar 
reputation,  he,  too,  having  been  several  times  engaged  in 
affairs  that  resulted  fatally.  At  this  period  New  Orleans 
was  emphatically  the  city  of  the  duello — for  this  speciality, 
perhaps  the  most  noted  in  the  world. 

As  already  said,  Florence  Kearney  knew  the  sort  of  man 
he  had  to  meet,  and  this  being  his  own  first  appearance 
in  a  duelling  field,  he  might  well  have  been  excused  for 
feeling  some  anxiety  as  to  the  result.  It  was  so  sight, 
however,  as  not  to  betray  itself,  either  in  his  looks  or  ges- 
tures. Confiding  in  his  skill,  gained  by  many  a  set-to  with 
buttoned  foils,  and  supported,  as  he  was,  by  the  gallint 
young  Kentuckian,  he  knew  nothing  that  could  be  called 
fear.  Instead,  as  his  antagonist  advanced  towards  the  spot 
where  he  was  standing,  and  he  looked  at  the  handsome,  yet 
sinister  face — his  thoughts  at  the  same  time  reverting  to 
Luisa  Valverde,  and  the  insult  upon  him  in  her  presence  — 
his  nerves,  not  at  all  unsteady,  now  became  firm  as  steel. 
Indeed,  the  self-confident,  almost  jaunty  air,  with  which  his 
adversary  came  upon  the  ground,  so  far  from  shaking  them 
— the  effect,  no  doubt,  intended — but  braced  them  the 
more. 

When  the  new-comers  had  adva!  .ced  a  certain  distance 
into  the  meadow,  Crittenden,  forsaking  his  stand  under  the 
tree,  stepped  out  to  meet  them,  Kearney  following  a  few 
paces  behind. 

A  sort  of  quadruple  bow  was  the  exchanged  salutation  ; 
then  the  principals  remained  apart,  the  seconds  drawing 
nigher  to  one  another,  and  entering  upon  the  required 
conference. 


3O  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

Only  a  few  words  passed  between  them,  as  but  few  were 
required  ;  the  weapons,  distance,  and  mode  of  giving  the 
word,  having  all  been  pre-arranged. 

There  was  no  talk  of  apology — nor  thought  of  it  being 
cither  offered  or  accepted.  By  their  attitude,  and  in  their 
looks,  both  the  challenged  and  challenger  showed  a  full, 
firm  determination  to  fight. 

Duperon  did  not  seem  to  care  much  one  way  or  the 
other,  and  the  -Kentuckian  was  not  the  sort  to  seek  con- 
ciliation— with  an  insult  such  as  his  captain  had  received 
calling  for  chastisement. 

After  the  preliminaries  were  passed  over,  the  seconds 
again  separated — each  to  attend  upon  his  principal. 

The  young  Irishman  took  off  his  coat,  and  rolled  back 
his  shirt  sleeves  up  to  the  elbow.  Santander,  on  the  other 
hand,  who  wore  a  red  flannel  shirt  under  his  ample  sacqiie, 
simply  threw  aside  the  latter,  leaving  the  shirt  sleeves  as 
they  were,  buttoned  around  the  wrist. 

Everybody  was  now  silent ;  the  hackney  drivers  on  their 
boxes,  the  doctors,  the  gigantic  Texan,  all  looming  large 
and  spectral-like  through  the  still  lingering  mist,  while  the 
streamers  of  Spanish  moss  hanging  from  the  cypresses 
around  were  appropriate  drapery  for  such  a  scene. 

In  the  midst  of  the  death-like  silence  a  voice  broke 
in,  coming  from  the  top  of  a  tall  cypress  standing  near. 
Strange  and  wild,  it  was  enough  not  only  to  startle,  but 
awe  the  stoutest  heart.  A  shrill,  continued  cachinnation, 
which,  though  human-like,  could  scarce  be  ascribed  to 
aught  human,  save  the  laughter  of  a  maniac. 

It  frightened  no  one  there,  all  knowing  what  it  was — the 
cackling  cry  of  the  white-headed  eagle. 

As  it  ended,  but  before  its  echoes  had  ceased  reverber- 
ating among  the  trees,  another  sound,  equally  awe-inspiring, 
woke  the  echoes  of  the  forest  further  down.  This,  the 


"TO    THE     SALUTE  !"  3! 

whoo-whoo-whooa    of    the     great    southern     owl,    seemingly    a 
groan  in  answer  to  the  eagle's  laugh. 

In  all  countries,  and  throughout  all  ages,  the  hooting  of 
the  owl  has  been  superstitiously  dreaded  as  ominous  of 
death,  and  might  have  dismayed  our  duellists,  had  they  been 
men  of  the  common  kind  of  courage.  Neither  were  or 
seemed  not  to  be  ;  for,  as  the  lugubrious  notes  were  still 
echoing  in  their  ears,  they  advanced,  and  with  rapiers  upraised, 
stood  confronting  each  other,  but  one  look  on  their  faces, 
and  one  thought  in  their  hearts — "to  killl" 


CHAPTER  VII. 
A  DUEL  "TO  THE  DEATH." 

THE  duellists  stood  confronting  one  another,  in  the  position 
of  "salute,"  both  hands  on  high  grasping  their  swords  at 
hilt  and  point,  the  blades  held  horizontally.  The  second 
of  each  was  in  his  place,  on  the  left  hand  of  his  principal, 
half  a  pace  in  advance.  But  a  moment  more  all  were 
waiting  for  the  word.  The  second  of  the  challenger  had 
the  right  to  give  it,  and  Crittenden  was  not  the  man  to 
make  delay. 

"  Engage  ! "  he  cried  out,  in  a  firm  clear  voice>  at  the 
same  time  stepping  half  a  pace  forward,  Duperon  doing 
the  same.  The  movement  was  made  as  a  precaution 
against  foul  play  ;  sometimes,  though  not  always  intended. 
For  in  the  excitement  of  such  a  moment,  or  under  the  im- 
patience of  angry  passion,  one  or  other  of  the  principals 
may  close  too  quickly — to  prevent  which  is  the  duty  of 
the  seconds. 

Quick,  at  the  "engage,"  both  came  to  "guard'*  with  a 
collision  that  struck  sparks  from  the  steel,  proving  the  hot 
anger  of  the  adversaries.  Had  they  been  cooler,  they 
would  have  crossed  swords  quietly.  But  when,  the  instant 
after,  they  came  to  tierce,  both  appeared  more  collected, 
their  blades  for  a  while  keeping  in  contact,  and  gliding 
around  each  other  as  if  they  had  been  a  single  piece. 

For  several  minutes  this  cautious  play  continued,  with- 
out further  sparks,  or  only  such  as  appeared  to  scintillate 
from  the  eyes  of  the  combatants,  Then  came  a  counter- 


A   DUEL   "TO   THE   DEATH."  33 

thrust,  quickly  followed  by  a  counter  parry,  with  no  advan- 
tage to  either. 

Long  ere  this,  an  observer  acquainted  with  the  weapons 
they  were  wielding,  could  have  seen  that  of  the  two  Kearney 
was  the  better  swordsman.  In  changing  from  carte  to 
tierce,  or  reversely,  the  young  Irishman  showed  himself 
possessed  of  the  power  to  keep  his  arm  straight  and  do  the 
work  with  his  wrist,  whilst  the  Creole  kept  bending  his 
elbow,  thus  exposing  his  forearm  to  the  adversary's  point. 

It  is  a  rare  accomplishment  among  swordsmen,  but, 
when  present,  insuring  almost  certain  victory,  that  is,  other 
circumstances  being  equal. 

In  Kearney's  case,  it  perhaps  proved  the  saving  of  his 
life ;  since  it  seemed  to  be  the  sole  object  of  his  antagonist 
to  thrust  in  upon  him,  heedless  of  his  own  guard.  But  the 
long,  straight  point,  from  shoulder  far  outstretched,  and 
never  for  an  instant  obliquely,  foiled  all  his  attempts. 

After  a  few  thrusts,  Santander  seemed  surprised  at  his 
fruitless  efforts.  Then  over  his  face  came  a  look  more  like 
fear.  It  was  the  first  time  in  his  duelling  experience  he 
had  been  so  baffled,  for  it  was  his  first  encounter  with  an 
adversary  who  could  keep  a  straight  arm. 

But  Florence  Kearney  had  been  taught  tierce  as  well  as 
carte,  and  knew  how  to  practise  it.  For  a  time  he  was 
prevented  from  trying  it  by  the  other's  impetuous  and 
incessant  thrusting,  which  kept  him  continuously  at  guard, 
but  as  the  sword-play  proceeded,  he  began  to  discover  the 
weak  points  of  his  antagonist,  and,  with  a  well-directed 
thrust,  at  length  sent  his  blade  through  the  Creole's  out- 
stretched arm,  impaling  it  from  wrist  to  elbow. 

An  ill-suppressed  cry  of  triumph  escaped  from  the 
Kentuckian's  lips,  while  with  eyes  directed  towards  the 
other  second,  he  seemed  to  ask, — 

"  Are  you  satisfied  ? " 

D 


34  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

Then  the  question  was  formally  put. 

Duperon  looked  in  the  face  of  his  principal,  though 
without  much  show  of  interrogating  him.  It  seemed  as  if 
he  already  divined  what  the  answer  would  be. 

"A  la  mort!"  cried  the  Creole,  with  a  deadly  emphasis 
and  bitter  determination  in  his  dark  sinister  eyes. 

"  To  the  death  be  it ! "  was  the  response  of  the  Irishman, 
not  so  calmly,  and  now  for  the  first  time  showing  anger. 
Nor  strange  he  should,  since  he  now  knew  he  had  crossed 
swords  with  a  man  determined  on  taking  his  life. 

There  was  a  second  or  two's  pause,  of  which  Santander 
availed  himself,  hastily  whipping  a  handkerchief  round  his 
wounded  arm — a  permission  not  strictly  according  to  the 
code,  but  tacitly  granted  by  his  gallant  antagonist. 

When  the  two  again  closed  and  came  to  guard,  the 
seconds  were  no  longer  by  their  sides.  At  the  words  "  a 
la  mort "  they  had  withdrawn — each  to  the  rear  of  his 
principal — the  mode  of  action  in  a  duel  to  the  death.  Their 
rdle  henceforth  was  simply  to  look  on,  with  no  right  of 
interference,  unless  either  of  the  principals  should  attempt 
foul  play.  This,  however,  could  not  well  occur.  By  the 
phrase  "  a  la  mort "  is  conveyed  a  peculiar  meaning,  well- 
known  to  the  Orleans  duellist.  When  spoken,  it  is  no 
longer  a  question  of  sword-skill,  or  who  draws  first  blood  ; 
but  a  challenge  giving  free  licence  to  kill — whichever  can. 

In  the  present  affair  it  was  followed  by  silence  more 
profound  and  more  intense  than  ever,  while  the  attention 
of  the  spectators,  now  including  the  seconds,  seemed  to 
redouble  itself. 

The  only  sound  heard  was  a  whistling  of  wings.  The 
fog  had  drifted  away,  and  several  large  birds  were  seen 
circling  in  the  air  above,  looking  down  with  stretched 
necks,  as  if  they,  too,  felt  interested  in  the  spectacle  pass- 
ing underneath.  No  doubt  they  did ;  for  they  were 


A   DUEL   "TO   THE   DEATH.  35 

vultures,  and  could  see — whether  or  not  they  scented  it— • 
that  blood  was  being  spilled. 

Once  more,  also,  from  the  tree  tops  came  the  mocking 
laughter  of  the  eagle ;  and  out  of  the  depths,  through  long, 
shadowy  arcades,  the  mournful  hootings  of  the  great  white 
owl — fit  music  for  such  fell  strife. 

Disregarding  these  ominous  sounds — each  seeming  a 
death-warning  in  itself — the  combatants  had  once  more 
closed,  again  and  again  crossing  sword-blades  with  a  clash 
that  frightened  owl,  eagle,  and  vulture,  for  an  instant 
causing  them  to  withhold  their  vocal  accompaniment. 

Though  now  on  both  sides  the  contest  was  carried  on 
with  increased  anger,  there  was  not  much  outward  sign  of 
it.  On  neither  any  rash  sword-play.  If  they  had  lost 
temper  they  yet  had  control  over  their  weapons ;  and 
their  guards  and  points,  though  perhaps  more  rapidly 
exchanged,  displayed  as  much  skill  as  ever. 

Again  Kearney  felt  surprised  at  the  repeated  thrusts  of 
his  antagonist,  which  kept  him  all  the  time  on  the  defen- 
sive, while  Santander  appeared  equally  astonished  and 
discomfited  by  that  far-reaching  arm,  straight  as  a  yard- 
stick, with  elbow  never  bent.  Could  the  Creole  have  but 
added  six  inches  to  his  rapier  blade,  in  less  than  ten  seconds 
.  the  young  Irishman  would  have  had  nearly  so  much  of  it 
passed  between  his  ribs. 

Twice  its  point  touched,  slightly  scratching  the  skin 
upon  his  breast,  and  drawing  blood. 

For  quite  twenty  minutes  the  sanguinary  strife  con- 
tinued without  any  marked  advantage  to  either.  It  was  a 
spectacle  somewhat  painful  to  behold,  the  combatants 
themselves  being  a  sight  to  look  upon.  Kearney's  shirt  of 
finest  white  linen  showed  like  a  butcher's ;  his  sleeves 
encrimsoned  ;  his  hands,  too,  grasping  his  rapier  hilt,  the 
same — not  with  his  own  blood,  but  that  of  his  adversary, 


36  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

which  had  run  back  along  the  blade ;  his  face  was  spotted 
by  the  drops  dashed  over  it  from  the  whirling  wands  of 
steel. 

Gory,  too,  was  the  face  of  Santander;  but  gashed  as 
well.  Bending  forward  to  put  in  a  point,  the  Creole  had 
given  his  antagonist  a  chance,  resulting  to  himself  in  a 
punctured  cheek,  the  scar  of  which  would  stay  there  for 
life. 

It  was  this  brought  the  combat  to  an  end ;  or,  at  all 
events,  to  its  concluding  stroke.  Santander,  vain  of  his 
personal  appearance,  on  feeling  his  cheek  laid  open,  sud- 
denly lost  command  of  himself,  and  with  a  fierce  oath 
rushed  at  his  adversary,  regardless  of  the  consequences. 

He  succeeded  in  making  a  thrust,  though  not  the  one  he 
intended.  For  having  aimed  at  Kearney's  heart,  missing 
it,  his  blade  passed  through  the  buckle  of  the  young  Irish- 
man's braces,  where  in  an  instant  it  was  entangled. 

Only  for  half  a  second ;  but  this  was  all  the  skilled 
swordsman  required.  Now,  first  since  the  fight  began,  his 
elbow  was  seen  to  bend.  This  to  obtain  room  for  a  thrust, 
which  was  sent,  to  all  appearance,  home  to  his  adversary's 
heart. 

Everyone  on  the  ground  expected  to  see  Santander  fall  ; 
for  by  the  force  of  the  blow  and  direction  Kearney's  blade' 
should  have  passed  through  his  body,  splitting  the  heart  in 
twain.  Instead,  the  point  did  not  appear  to  penetrate 
even  an  inch  !  As  it  touched,  there  came  a  sound  like  the 
chinking  of  coin  in  a  purse,  with  simultaneously  the  snap 
of  a  breaking  blade,  and  the  young  Irishman  was  seen 
standing  as  in  a  trance  of  astonishment,  in  his  hand  but 
the  half  of  a  sword,  the  other  half  gleaming  amongst  the 
grass  at  his  feet. 

It  seemed  a  mischance,  fatal  to  Florence  Kearney  and 
only  the  veriest  dastard  would  have  taken  advantage  of  it 


A   DUEL    "TO   THE   DEATH. *  37 

But  this  Santander  was,  and  once  more  drawing  back,  and 
bringing  his  blade  to  tierce,  he  was  rushing  on  his  now 
defenceless  antagonist,  when  Crittenden  called  "Foul  play!" 
at  the  same  time  springing  forward  to  prevent  it 

His  interference,  however,  would  have  been  too  late,  and 
in  another  instant  the  young  Irishman  would  have  been 
stretched  lifeless  along  the  sward,  but  for  a  second  indi- 
vidual who  had  watched  the  foul  play — one  who  had  been 
suspecting  it  all  along.  The  sword  of  Santander  seen 
flying  off,  as  if  struck  out  of  his  grasp,  and  his  arm  drop- 
ping by  his  side,  with  blood  pouring  from  the  tips  of  his 
ringers,  were  all  nearly  simultaneous  incidents,  as  also  the 
crack  of  a  rifle  and  a  cloud  of  blue  smoke  suddenly  spurt- 
ing up  over  one  of  the  carriages,  and  half-concealing  the 
colossal  figure  of  Cris  Rock,  still  seated  on  the  box.  Out 
of  that  cloud  came  a  cry  in  the  enraged  voice  of  the  Texan, 
with  words  which  made  all  plain, — 

"  Ye  darned  Creole  cuss  !  Take  that  for  a  treetur  an*  a 
cowart !  Strip  the  skunk !  He's  got  sumthin'  steely 
under  his  shirt ;  I  heerd  the  chink  o'  it" 

Saying  which  he  bounded  down  from  the  box,  sprang 
ever  the  water-ditch,  and  rushed  on  towards  the  spot 
occupied  by  the  combatants. 

In  a.  dozen  strides  he  was  in  their  midst,  and  before 
either  of  the  two  seconds,  equally  astonished,  could  inter- 
fere, he  had  caught  Santander  by  the  throat,  and  tore  open 
the  breast  of  his  shirt ! 

Underneath  was  then  seen  another  shirt,  not  flannel,  nor 
yet  linen  or  cotton,  but  link-and-chain  steel  I 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
A  DISGRACED  DUELLIST. 

IMPOSSIBLE  to  describe  the  scene  which  followed,  or  the 
expression  upon  the  faces  of  those  men  who  stood  beside 
Santander.  The  Texan,  strong  as  he  was  big,  still  kept 
hold  of  him,  though  now  at  arm's  length  ;  in  his  grasp 
retaining  the  grown  man  with  as  much  apparent  ease  as 
though  it  were  but  a  child.  And  there,  sure  enough,  under 
the  torn  flannel  shirt,  all  could  see  a  doublet  of  chain 
armour,  impenetrable  to  sword's  point  as  plate  of  solid 
steel 

Explanation  this  of  why  Carlos  Santander  was  so  ready 
to  take  the  field  in  a  duel,  and  had  twice  left  his  antagonist 
lifeless  upon  it.  It  explained  also  why,  when  leaping 
across  the  water-ditch,  he  had  dropped  so  heavily  upon 
the  farther  bank.  Weighted  as  he  was,  no  wonder. 

By  this  time  the  two  doctors,  with  the  pair  of  hackney- 
drivers,  seeing  that  something  had  turned  up  out  of  the 
common  course,  parting  from  the  carriages,  had  also  come 
upon  the  ground  ;  the  jarveys,  in  sympathy  with  Cris 
Rock,  crying,  "Shame!"  In  the  Crescent  City  even  a 
cabman  has  something  of  chivalry  in  his  nature — the 
surroundings  teach  and  invite  it — and  now  the  detected 
scoundrel  seemed  without  a  single  friend.  For  he — hither- 
to acting  as  such,  seeing  the  imposture,  which  had  been 
alike  practised  on  himself,  stepped  up  to  his  principal,  and 
looking  him  scornfully  in  the  face,  hissed  out  the  word 

88 


A    DISGRACED    DUELLIST.  39 

Then  turning  to  Kearney  and  Crittenden  he  added, — 

"  Let  that  be  my  apology  to  you,  gentlemen.  If  you're 
not  satisfied  with  it,  I'm  willing  and  ready  to  take  his 
place — with  either  of  you." 

"  It's  perfectly  satisfactory,  monsieur,"  frankly  responded 
the  Kentuckian,  "  so  far  as  I'm  concerned.  And  I  think  I 
may  say  as  much  for  Captain  Kearney." 

"Indeed,  yes,"  assented  the  Irishman,  adding:  "We 
absolve  you,  sir,  from  all  blame.  It's  evident  you  knew 
nothing  of  that  shining  panoply  till  now ; "  as  he  spoke, 
pointing  to  the  steel  shirt. 

The  French  Creole  haughtily,  but  courteously,  bowed 
thanks.  Then,  facing  once  more  to  Santander,  and 
repeating  the  " Ldche"  strode  silently  away  from  the 
ground. 

They  had  all  mistaken  the  character  of  the  individual, 
who,  despite  a  somewhat  forbidding  face,  was  evidently  a 
man  of  honour,  as  he  had  proved  himself. 

"  What  d'ye  weesh  me  to  do  wi'  him  ? "  interrogated  the 
Texan,  still  keeping  Santander  in  firm  clutch.  "  Shed  we 
shoot  him  or  hang  him  ?" 

"Hang!"  simultaneously  shouted  the  two  hackney 
drivers,  who  seemed  as  bitter  against  the  disgraced  duellist 
as  if  he  had  "  bilked  "  them  of  a  fare. 

"  So  I  say,  too,"  solemnly  pronounced  the  Texan ; 
"  shootin's  too  good  for  the  like  o'  him  ;  a  man  capable  o* 
sech  a  cowardly,  murderous  trick  desarves  to  die  the  death 
o'  a  dog." 

Then,  with  an  interrogating  look  at  Crittenden,  he 
added  :  "  Which  is't  to  be,  lootenant  ?  " 

"  Neither,  Cris,"  answered  the  Kentuckian.  "  If  I 
mistake  not,  the  gentleman  has  had  enough  punishment 
without  either.  If  he's  got  so  much  as  a  spark  of  shame 
or  conscience " 


4O  THE    FREE   LANCES. 

"  Conshence  !  "  exclaimed  Rock,  interrupting.  "  Sech  a 
skunk  don't  know  the  meanin'  o'  the  word.  Darn  ye  I  "  he 
continued,  turning  upon  his  prisoner,  and  shaking  him  till 
the  links  in  the  steel  shirt  chinked,  "  I  feel  as  if  I  ked  drive 
the  blade  o'  my  bowie  inter  ye  through  them  steel  fixin's 
an'  all." 

And,  drawing  his  knife  from  its  sheath,  he  brandished 
it  in  a  menacing  manner. 

"Don't,  Rock!  Please  don't!"  interposed  the  Ken- 
tuckian,  Kearney  joining  in  the  entreaty.  "  He's  not 
worth  anger,  much  less  revenge.  So  let  him  go." 

"  You're  right  thar,  lootenant,"  rejoined  Rock.  *  He 
ain't  worth  eyther,  that's  the  truth.  An'  'twould  only  be 
puttin'  pisen  on  the  blade  o'  my  knife  to  smear  it  wi'  his 
black  blood.  F'r  all,  I  ain't  a-gwine  to  let  him  off  so 
easy's  all  that,  unless  you  an*  the  captain  insists  on  it. 
After  the  warmish  work  he's  had,  an'  the  sweat  he's  put 
himself  in  by  the  wearin'  o'  two  shirts  at  a  time,  I  guess  he 
won't  be  any  the  worse  of  a  sprinkling  o'  cold  water.  So 
here  goes  to  gie  it  him." 

Saying  which,  he  strode  off  towards  the  ditch,  half- 
dragging,  half-carrying  Santander  along  with  him. 

The  cowed  and  craven  creature  neither  made  resistance, 
nor  dared.  Had  he  done  so,  the  upshot  was  obvious.  For 
the  Texan's  blade,  still  bared,  was  shining  before  his  eyes, 
and  he  knew  that  any  attempt  on  his  part,  either  to  oppose 
the  latter's  intention  or  escape,  would  result  in  having  it 
buried  between  his  ribs.  So,  silently,  sullenly,  he  allowed 
himself  to  be  taken  along,  not  as  a  lamb  to  the  slaughter, 
but  a  wolf,  or  rather  dog,  about  to  be  chastised  for  some 
malfeasance. 

In  an  instant  after,  the  chastisement  was  administered 
by  the  Texan  laying  hold  of  him  with  both  hands,  lifting 
him  from  off  his  feet,  and  then  dropping  him  down  into  the 


A   DISGRACED    DUELLIST.  41 

water-ditch,  where,  weighted  with  the  steel  shirt,  he  fell 
with  a  dead,  heavy  plunge,  going  at  once  to  the  bottom. 

"That's  less  than  your  desarvin's,"  said  the  Texan,  on 
thus  delivering  his  charge.  "  An'  if 't  had  been  left  to  Cris 
Rock  'twould  'a  been  up,  'stead  o'  down,  he'd  'a  sent  ye. 
If  iver  man  desarved  hangin',  you're  the  model  o'  him. 
Ha — ha — ha  !  Look  at  the  skunk  now  !  " 

The  last  words,  with  the  laugh  preceding  them,  were 
elicited  by  the  ludicrous  appearance  which  Santander  pre- 
sented. He  had  come  to  the  surface  again,  and,  with  some 
difficulty,  owing  to  the  encumbrance  of  his  under-shirt* 
clambered  out  upon  the  bank.  But  not  as  when  he  went 
under.  Instead,  with  what  appeared  a  green  cloak  over 
hi?  shoulders,  the  scum  of  the  stagnant  water  long  collect- 
ing undisturbed.  The  hackney-driver — there  was  but  one 
now,  the  other  taken  off  by  Duperon,  who  had  hired  him, 
their  doctor  too — joined  with  Rock  in  his  laughter,  while 
Kearney,  Crittenden,  and  their  own  surgeon  could  not 
help  uniting  in  the  chorus.  Never  had  tragic  hero  suffered 
a  more  comical  discomfiture. 

He  was  now  permitted  to  withdraw  from  the  scene  of  it, 
a  permission  of  which  he  availed  himself  without  further 
delay  ;  first  retreating  for  some  distance  along  the  Shell 
Road,  as  one  wandering  and  distraught ;  then,  as  if  seized 
by  a  sudden  thought,*  diving  into  the  timbered  swamp 
alongside,  and  there  disappearing. 

Soon  after  the  carriage  containing  the  victorious  party 
rattled  past ;  they  inside  it  scarce  casting  a  look  to  see 
what  had  become  of  Santander.  He  was  nothing  to  them 
now  ;  at  best  only  a  thing  to  be  a  matter  of  ludicrous 
remembrance.-  Nor  long  remained  he  in  their  thoughts; 
these  now  reverting  to  Texas,  and  their  necessity  for 
hastening  back  to  the  Cresceot  City,  to  make  start  foi 
14  THe  Land  of  the  I,o&e 


CHAPTER    IX. 
A  SPARTAN  BAND. 

IN  ancient  days  Sparta  had  its  Thermopylae,  while  in 
those  of  modern  date  Sicily  saw  a  thousand  men  in  scarlet 
shirts  make  landing  upon  her  coast,  and  conquer  a  king- 
dom defended  by  a  military  force  twenty  or  thirty  times 
their  number ! 

But  deeds  of  heroism  are  not  alone  confined  to  the  his- 
tory of  the  Old  World.  That  of  the  New  presents  us 
with  many  pages  of  a  similar  kind,  and  Texas  can  tell  of 
achievements  not  surpassed,  either  in  valour  or  chivalry, 
by  any  upon  record.  Such  was  the  battle  of  San  Jacinto, 
where  the  Texans  were  victorious,  though  overmatched  in 
the  proportion  of  ten  to  one :  such  the  defence  of  Fort 
Alamo,  when  the  brave  Colonel  Crockett,  now  world-known, 
surrendered  up  his  life,  alongside  the  equally  brave  "Jim 
Bowie,"  he  who  gave  his  name  to  the  knife  which  on  that 
occasion  he  so  efficiently  wielded—after  a  protracted  and 
terrible  struggle  dropping  dead  upon  a  heap  of  foes  who 
had  felt  its  sharp  point  and  keen  edge. 

Among  the  deeds  of  great  renown  done  by  the  defenders 
of  the  young  Republic,  none  may  take  higher  rank,  since 
none  is  entitled  to  it,  than  that  known  as  the  battle  of 
Mier.  Though  they  there  lost  the  day — a  defeat  due  to 
the  incapacity  of  an  ill-chosen  leader — they  won  glory 
eternal.  Every  man  of  them  who  fell  had  first  killed  his 
foeman — some  half  a  score — while  of  those  who  survived 
there  was  not  one  so  craven  as  to  cry  "  Quarter  1 "  The 

43 


A   SPARTAN    BAND.  43 

white  flag  went  not  up  till  they  were  overwhelmed  and 
overpowered  by  sheer  disparity  of  numbers. 

It  was  a  fight  at  first  with  rifles  and  musketry  at  long 
range ;  then  closer  as  the  hostile  host  came  crowding  in 
upon  them  ;  the  bullets  sent  through  windows  and  loop- 
holed  walls — some  from  the  flat  parapetted  roofs  of  the 
houses — till  at  length  it  became  a  conflict  hand  to  hand 
with  knife,  sword,  and  pistol,  or  guns  clubbed — being  empty, 
with  no  time  to  reload  them — many  a  Texan  braining  one 
antagonist  with  the  butt  of  his  piece  after  having  sent  its 
bullet  through  the  body  of  another ! 

Vain  all !  Brute  strength,  represented  by  superior  num- 
bers, triumphed  over  warlike  prowess,  backed  by  indomit- 
able courage ;  and  the  "  Mier  Expedition,"  from  which 
Texas  had  expected  so  much,  ended  disastrously,  though 
in^loriously ;  those  who  survived  being  made  prisoners, 
and  carried  off  to  the  capital  of  Mexico. 

Of  the  Volunteer  Corps  which  composed  this  ill-fated 
expedition — and  they  were  indeed  all  volunteers — none 
gave  better  account  of  itself  than  that  organised  in  Poydras 
Street,  New  Orleans,  and  among  its  individual  members  no 
man  behaved  better  than  he  whom  they  had  chosen  as  their 
leader.  Florence  Kearney  had  justified  their  choice,  and 
proved  true  to  the  trust,  as  all  who  outlived  that  fatal  day 
ever  after  admitted.  Fortunately,  he  himself  was  among 
the  survivors  ;  by  a  like  good  luck,  so  too  were  his  first- 
lieutenant  Crittenden  and  Cris  Rock.  As  at  "  Fanning's 
Massacre,"  so  at  Mier  the  gigantic  Texan  performed  pro- 
digies of  valour,  laying  around  him,  and  slaying  en  all 
sides,  till  at  length  wounded  and  disabled,  like  &  lion  beset 
by  a  cheavux-de-frise  of  Caffre  assegais,  he  was  compelled 
to  submit.  Fighting  side  by  side,  with  the  man  he  had 
first  taken  a  fancy  to  on  the  Levee  of  New  Orleans,  and 
afterwards  became  igstrnm^jital  l"\  making  captain  of 


44  THE   FREE    LANCES. 

corps — finding  this  man  to  be  what  he  had  conjecturally 
believed  and  pronounced  him — of  the  "  true  grit " — Cris 
Rock  now  felt  for  Florence  Kearney  almost  the  affection 
of  a  father,  combined  with  the  grand  respect  which  one 
gallant  soul  is  ever  ready  to  pay  another.  Devotion,  too, 
so  strong  and  real,  that  had  the  young  Irishman  called 
upon  him  for  the  greatest  risk  of  his  life,  in  any  good  or 
honourable  cause,  he  would  have  responded  to  the  call 
without  a  moment's  hesitancy  or  murmur.  Nay,  more  than 
risk ;  he  would  have  laid  it  down,  absolutely,  to  save  that 
of  his  cherished  leader. 

Proof  of  this  was,  in  point  of  fact,  afforded  but  a  short 
while  after.  Any  one  acquainted  with  Texan  history  will 
remember  how  the  Mier  prisoners,  while  being  taken  to 
the  city  of  Mexico,  rose  upon  their  guards,  and  mastering 
them,  made  their  escape  to  the  mountains  around.  This 
occurred  at  the  little  town  of  El  Salado,  and  was  caused 
by  the  terrible  sufferings  the  captives  had  endured  upon 
the  march,  added  to  many  insults  and  cruelties,  to  which 
they  had  been  subjected,  not  only  by  the  Mexican  soldiers, 
but  the  officers  having  them  in  charge.  These  had  grown 
altogether  insupportable,  at  El  Salado  reaching  the  climax. 

It  brought  about  the  crisis  for  a  long  time  accumulating, 
and  which  the  Texans  anticipated.  For  they  had,  at  every 
opportunity  afforded  them,  talked  over  and  perfected  a 
plan  cf  escape. 

By  early  daybreak  on  a  certain  morning,  as  their  guards 
were  carelessly  lounging  about  an  idle  hour  before  con- 
tinuing that  toilsome  journey,  a  signal  shout  was  heard. 

"  Now,  boys,  up  and  at  them  ! "  were  the  words,  with 
some  others  following,  which  all  well  understood — almost 
a  repetition  of  the  famous  order  of  Wellington  at  Waterloo, 
And  as  promptly  obeyed  ;  for  on  hearing  it  the  Texans 
rushed  at  the  soldiers  of  the  escort,  wrenched  from  th 


A   SPARTAN   BAND.  45 

their  weapons,  and  with  those  fought  their  way  through 
the  hastily-formed  ranks  of  the  enemy  out  into  the  open 
country. 

So  far  they  had  succeeded,  though  in  the  end,  for  most 
<>f  them,  it  proved  a  short  and  sad  respite.  t  Pursued  by  an 
overwhelming  force — fresh  troops  drawn  from  the  garrisons 
In  the  neighbourhood,  added  to  the  late  escort  so  shame- 
fully discomfited,  and  smarting  under  the  humiliation  and 
defeat — the  pursuit  carrying  them  through  a  country  to 
which  they  were  entire  strangers — a  district  almost  unin- 
habited, without  roads,  and,  worse  still,  without  water,— 
not  strange  that  all,  or  nearly  all,  of  them  were  recaptured, 
and  carried  back  to  El  Salado. 

Then  ensued  a  scene  worthy  of  being  enacted  by  savages, 
for  little  better  than  savages  were  those  in  whose  custody 
they  were.  Exulting  fiend-like  over  their  recapture,  at 
first  the  word  went  round  that  all  were  to  be  executed  ; 
this  being  the  general  wish  of  their  captors.  No  doubt  the 
deed  of  wholesale  vengeance  would  have  been  done,  and 
our  hero,  Florence  Kearney,  with  his  companion,  Cris  Rock, 
never  more  have  been  heard  of ;  in  other  words,  the  novel 
of  the  "  Free  Lances  "  would  not  have  been  written.  But 
among  those  reckless  avengers  there  were  some  who  knew 
better  than  to  advocate  indiscriminate  slaughter.  It  was 
"a  far  cry  to  Loch  Awe,"  all  knew;  the  Highland  loch 
typified  not  by  Texas,  but  the  United  States.  But  the 
mor^  knowing  ones  always  knew  that,  however  far,  the  cry 
might  be  heard,  and  then  what  the  result  ?  No  mere  band 
of  Texan  filibusters,  ill-organised,  and  but  poorly  equipped, 
to  come  across  the  Rio  Grande  ;  instead  a  well-disciplined 
army  in  numbers  enough  for  sure  retaliation,  bearing  the 
banner  of  the  "  Stars  and  Stripes." 

In  fine,  a  more  merciful  course  was  determined  upon ; 
only  decimation  of  the  prisoners — every  tenth  man  to  suffer 
death. 


46  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

There  was  no  word  about  degrees  in  their  guiltiness- 
all  were  alike  in  this  respect — and  the  fate  of  each  was  to 
be  dependent  on  pure  blind  chance. 

When  the  retaken  escapadoes  had  been  brought  back  to 
El  Salado,  they  were  drawn  up  in  line  of  single  file,  and 
carefully  counted.  A  helmet,  snatched  from  the  head  of 
one  of  the  Dragoons  guarding  them,  was  made  use  of  as 
a  ballot-box.  Into  this  were  thrown  a  number  of  what  we 
call  French  or  kidney  beans — the  pijoles  of  Mexico — in 
count  corresponding  to  that  of  the  devoted  victims.  Of 
these  pijoles  there  are  several  varieties,  distinguishable 
chiefly  by  their  colour.  Two  sorts  are  common,  the  black 
and  white ;  and  these  were  chosen  to  serve  as  tickets  in 
that  dread  lottery  of  life  and  death.  For  every  nine  white 
beans  there  was  a  black  one ;  he  who  drew  black  would  be 
shot  within  the  hour ! 

Into  the  hard  soldier's  head-piece,  appropriate  for  such 
purpose,  the  beans  were  dropped,  and  the  drawing  done  as 
designed.  I,  who  now  write  of  it  long  after,  can  truthfully 
affirm  that  never  in  the  history  of  human  kind  has  there 
been  a  grander  exhibition  of  man's  courage  than  was  that 
day  given  at  El  Salado.  The  men  who  exemplified  it  were 
of  no  particular  nation.  As  a  matter  of  course,  the  main 
body  of  the  Texans  were  of  American  birth,  but  among 
them  were  also  Englishmen,  Scotchmen,  Irishmen,  French, 
and  Germans — even  some  who  spoke  Spanish,  the  language 
of  their  captors,  now  their  judges,  and  about  to  beccme 
their  executioners.  But  when  that  helmet  of  horrible  con- 
tents was  carried  round,  and  held  before  each,  not  one 
showed  the  slightest  fear  or  hesitancy  to  plunge  his  hand 
into  it,  though  knowing  that  what  they  should  bring  up 
between  their  fingers  might  be  the  sealing  of  their  fate. 
Many  laughed  and  made  laughter  among  their  comrades, 
by  some  quaint  jeu  d  esprit.  One  reckless  fellow — no  other 


A  SPARTAN   BAND.  47 

than  Cris  Rock — as  he  fearlessly  rattled  the  beans  about, 
cried  aloud, — 

"Wai,  boys,  I  guess  it's  the  tallest  gamblin'  I've  ever 
took  a  hand  at.  But  this  child  ain't  afeerd.  I  was  born 
to  good  luck,  an'  am  not  likely  to  go  under — jest  yet." 

The  event  justified  his  confidence,  as  he  drew  blank — 
not  blacky  the  fatal  colour. 

It  was  now  Kearney's  turn  to  undergo  the  dread  ordeal ; 
and,  without  flinching,  he  was  about  to  insert  his  hand  into 
the  helmet,  when  the  Texan,  seizing  hold  of  it,  stayed  him. 

"  No,  Cap. !  "  he  exclaimed  ;  "  I'm  wownded,  putty  bad, 
as  ye  see  " — (he  had  received  a  lance  thrust  in  their  struggle 
with  the  Guards) — "  an'  mayent  git  over  it.  Thurfor,  your 
life's  worth  more'n  mine.  Besides,  my  luck's  good  jest 
now.  So  let  me  take  your  chance.  That's  allowed,  as 
these  skunks  h^v  sayed  themselves." 

So  it  was — a  declaration  having  been  made  by  the  officer 
who  presided  over  the  drawing — from  humane  motives  as 
pretended — that  any  one  who  could  find  a  substitute  might 
himself  stand  clear.  A  grim  mockery  it  seemed  ;  and  yet 
it  was  not  so;  since,  besides  Cris  Rock,  more  than  one 
courageous  fellow  proposed  the  same  to  comrade  and 
friend — in  the  case  of  two  brothers  the  elder  one  insisting 
upon  it. 

Though  fully,  fervently  appreciating  the  generous  offer, 
Florence  Kearney  was  not  the  man  to  avail  himself  of  it. 

41  Thanks,  brave  comrade ! "  he  said,  with  warmth,  de- 
taching his  hand  from  the  Texan's  grasp,  and  thrusting  it 
into  the  helmet.  "  What's  left  of  your  life  yet  is  worth 
more  than  all  mine ;  and  my  luck  may  be  good  as  yours — 
we'll  see." 

It  proved  so,  a  murmur  of  satisfaction  running  along  the 
line  as  they  saw  his  hand  drawn  out  with  a  white  bean 
between  the  fingers. 


48  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

"  Thanks*  to  the  Almighty ! "  joyously  shouted  the  Texan, 
AS  he  made  out  the  colour.  "  Both  o'  us  clar  o'  that  scrape, 
by  Job !  An'  as  there  ain't  no  need  for  me  dyin'  yet,  I 
mean  to  live  it  out,  an'  git  well  agin." 

And  get  well  he  did,  debpite  the  long  after  march,  with 
all  its  exposures  and  fatigues  ;  his  health  and  strengtl 
being  completely  restored  as  he  stepped  over  the  threshold 
entering  within  his  prison  cell  in  the  city  of  Mexico. 


CHAPTER  X 
THE    ACORDADA. 

ONE  of  the  most  noted  "  lions "  in  the  City  of  Mexico  is 
the  prison  called  La  Acordada.  Few  strangers  visit  the 
Mexican  capital  without  also  paying  a  visit  to  this  cele- 
brated penal  establishment,  and  few  who  enter  its  gloomy 
portals  issue  forth  from  them  without  having  seen  some- 
thing to  sadden  the  heart,  and  be  ever  afterwards  remem- 
bered with  repugnance  and  pain. 

There  is,  perhaps,  no  prison  in  the  universal  world  where 
one  may  witness  so  many,  and  such  a  variety  of  criminals  ; 
since  there  is  no  crime  known  to  the  calendar  that  has  not 
been  committed  by  some  one  of  the  gaol-birds  of  the  Acor- 
dada. 

Its  cells,  or  cloisters — for  the  building  was  once  a 
monastery — are  usually  well  filled  with  thieves,  forgers, 
ravishers,  highway  robbers,  and  a  fair  admixture  of 
murderers  ;  none  appearing  cowed  or  repentant,  but 
boldly  brazening  it  out,  and  even  boasting  of  their  deeds 
of  villainy,  fierce  and  strong  as  when  doing  them,  save  the 
disabled  ones,  who  suffer  from  wounds  or  some  loathsome 
disease. 

Nor  is  all  their  criminal  action  suspended  inside  the 
prison  walls.  It  is  carried  on  within  their  cells,  and  still 
more  frequently  in  the  court-yards  of  the  ancient  convent, 
where  they  are  permitted  to  meet  in  common  and  spend 
a  considerable  portion  of-  their  time.  Here  they  may  be 
seen  in  groups,  most  of  them  raggi§<?  and  greasy,  squatted 


5O  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

on  the  flags,  card-playing — and  cheating  when  they  can- 
now  and  then  quarrelling,  but  always  talking  loud  and 
cursing. 

Into  the  midst  of  this  mass  of  degraded  humanity  were 
thrust  two  of  the  unfortunate  prisoners,  taken  at  the  battle 
of  Mier — the  two  with  whom  our  tale  has  alone  to  do. 

For  reasons  that  need  not  be  told,  most  of  the  captives 
were  excepted  from  this  degradation  ;  the  main  body  of 
them  being  carried  on  through  the  city  to  the  pleasant 
suburban  village  of  Tacubaya. 

But  Forence  Kearney  and  Cris  Rock  were  not  among 
the  exceptions  ;  both  having  been  consigned  to  the  horrid 
pandemonium  we  have  painted. 

It  was  some  consolation  to  them  that  they  were  allowed 
to  share  the  same  cell,  though  they  would  have  liked  it 
better  could  they  have  had  this  all  to  themselves.  As  it 
was,  they  had  not ;  two  individuals  being  bestowed  in  it 
along  with  them. 

It  was  an  apartment  of  but  limited  dimensions — about 
eight  feet  by  ten — the  cloister  of  some  ancient  monk,  who, 
no  doubt,  led  a  jolly  enough  life  of  it  there,  or,  if  not  there, 
in  the  refectory  outside,  in  the  days  when  the  Acordada 
was  a  pleasant  place  of  residence  for  himself  and  his 
cowled  companions.  For  his  monastery,  as  "  Bolton  Abbey 
in  the  olden  time,"  saw  many  a  scene  of  good  cheer,  its 
inmates  being  no  anchorites. 

Beside  the  Texan  prisoners,  its  other  occupants  now 
were  men  of  Mexican  birth.  One  of  them,  under  more 
favourable  circumstances,  would  have  presented  a  fine 
appearance.  Even  in  his  prison  garb,  somewhat  ragged 
and  squalid,  he  looked  the  gentleman  and  something  more. 
For  there  was  that  in  his  air  and  physiognomy,  which 
proclaimed  him  nc  common  man.  ^  Captivity  may  hold  and 
make  more  fierce,  •*,.-  not  degrade,  the  lion.  And 


THE   ACORDADA,  51 

just  as  a  lion  In  its  cage  seemed  this  man  in  a  cell  of  the 
Acordada.  His  face  was  of  the  rotund  type,  bold  in  its 
expression,  yet  with  something  of  gentle  humanity,  see*, 
when  searched  for,  in  the  profound  depths  of  a  dark  pene- 
trating eye.  His  complexion  was  a  clear  olive,  such  as  is 
common  to  Mexicans  of  pure  Spanish  descent,  the  progeny 
of  the  Conquistadors  ;  his  beard  and  moustache  coal-black, 
as  also  the  thick  mass  of  hair  that,  bushing  out  and  down 
over  his  ears,  half  concealed  them. 

Cris  Rock  "cottoned  "  to  this  man  on  sight.  Nor  liked 
him  much  the  less  when  told  he  had  been  a  robber !  Cris 
supposed  that  in  Mexico  a  robber  may  sometimes  be  an 
honest  man,  or  at  all  events,  have  taken  to  the  road  through 
some  supposed  wrong — personal  or  political.  Freebooting 
is  less  a  crime,  or  at  all  events,  more  easy  of  extenuation  in 
a  country  whose  chief  magistrate  himself  is  a  freebooter  ; 
and  such,  at  this  moment,  neither  more  nor  less,  was  the 
chief  magistrate  of  Mexico,  Don  Antonio  Lopez  de  Santa 
Anna. 

Beyond  the  fact,  or  it  might  be  only  suspicion,  that 
Ruperto  Rivas  was  a  robber,  little  seemed  to  be  known  of 
him  among  the  inmates  of  the  Acordada.  He  had  been 
there  only  a  short  while,  and  took  no  part  in  their  vulgar, 
common-place  ways  of  killing  time  ;  instead,  staying  within 
his  cell.  His  name  had,  however,  leaked  out,  and  this 
brought  up  in  the  minds  of  some  of  his  fellow-prisoners 
certain  reminiscences  pointing  to  him  as  one  of  the  road 
fraternity ;  no  common  one  either,  but  the  chief  of  a  band 
of  "  salteadores." 

Altogether  different  was  the  fourth  personage  entitled 
to  a  share  in  the  cell  appropriated  to  Kearney  and  Cris 
Rock  ;  unlike  the  reputed  robber  as  the  Satyr  to  Hype- 
rion. In  short,  a  contrast  of  the  completest  kind,  both 
silly  and  mentally  M**  fcsro  beings  claiming  to  be  of 


52  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

human  kind  could  have  presented  a  greater  dissimilarity-^ 
being  very  types  of  the  extreme.  Ruperto  Rivas,  despite 
the  shabby  habiliments  in  which  the  gaol  authorities  had 
arrayed  him,  looked  all  dignity  and  grandeur,  while  El 
Zorillo — the  little  fox,  as  his  prison  companions  called 
him — was  an  epitomised  impersonation  of  wickedness  and 
meanness  ;  not  only  crooked  in  soul,  but  in  body — being  in 
point  of  fact  an  enano  or  dwarf  hunchback. 

Previous  to  the  arrival  of  those  who  were  henceforth 
to  share  their  cell,  this  ill-assorted  pair  had  been  kept 
chained  together,  as  much  by  way  of  punishment  as  to 
prevent  escape.  But  now,  the  gaol-governor,  as  if  struck 
by  a  comical  idea,  directed  them  to  be  separated,  and  the 
dwarf  linked  to  the  Texan  Colossus — thus  presenting  a  yet 
more  ludicrous  contrast  of  couples — while  the  ex-captain  of 
the  filibusters  and  the  reputed  robber  were  consigned  to 
the  same  chain. 

Of  the  new  occupants  of  the  cloister,  Cris  Rock  was  the 
more  disgusted  with  the  situation.  His  heart  was  large 
enough  to  feel  sympathy  for  humanity  in  any  shape,  and 
he  would  have  pitied  his  deformed  fellow-prisoner,  but  for 
a  deformity  of  the  latter  worse  than  any  physical  ugli- 
ness ;  for  the  Texan  soon  learnt  that  the  hideous  creature, 
whose  couch  as  well  as  chain  he  was  forced  to  share,  had 
committed  crimes  of  the  most  atrocious  nature,  among  the 
rest  murder  !  It  was,  in  fact,  for' this  last  that  he  was  now 
in  the  Acordada — a  cowardly  murder,  too — a  case  of 
poisoning.  That  he  still  lived  was  due  to  the  proofs 
not  being  legally  satisfactory,  though  no  one  doubted  of 
his  having  perpetrated  the  crime. 

At  first  contact  with  this  wretch  the  Texan  had  recoiled 
in  horror,  without  knowing  aught  of  his  past.  There  was 
that  in  his  face  which  spoke  a  history  of  dark  deeds.  But 
when  this  became  know&  £Q  fe  new  denizens  of  the  cell, 


THE   ACORDADA.  53 

the  proximity  of  such  a  monster  was  positively  revolting 
to  them. 

Vengeance  itself  could  not  have  devised  a  more  effective 
mode  of  torture.  Cris  Rock  groaned  under  it,  now  and 
then  grinding  his  teeth  and  stamping  his  feet,  as  if  he 
could  have  trodden  the  misshapen  thing  into  a  still  more 
shapeless  mass  under  the  heels  of  his  heavy  boots. 

For  the  first  two  days  of  their  imprisonment  in  the 
Acordada  neither  of  the  Texans  could  understand  why 
they  were  being  thus  punished — as  it  were  to  satisfy  some 
personal  spite.  None  of  the  other  Mier  prisoners,  of  whom 
several  had  been  brought  to  the  same  gaol,  were  submitted 
to  a  like  degradation.  True,  these  were  also  chained  two 
and  two ;  but  to  one  another,  and  not  to  Mexican  crim- 
inals. Why,  then,  had  they  alone  been  made  an  exception  ? 
For  their  lives  neither  could  tell  or  guess,  though  they 
gave  way  to  every  kind  of  conjecture.  It  was  true  enough 
that  Cris  Rock  had  been  one  of  the  ringleaders  in  the  rising 
at  El  Salado,  while  the  young  Irishman  had  also  taken  a 
prominent  part  in  that  affair.  Still,  there  were  others  now 
in  the  Acordada  who  had  done  the  same,  receiving  treat- 
ment altogether  different.  The  attack  upon  the  Guards, 
therefore,  could  scarce  be  the  cause  of  what  they  were 
called  upon  to  suffer  now ;  for  besides  the  humiliation  of 
being  chained  to  criminals,  they  were  otherwise  severely 
dealt  with.  The  food  set  before  them  was  of  the  coarsest, 
with  a  scarcity  of  it ;  and  more  than  once  the  gaoler,  whose 
duty  it  was  to  look  after  them,  made  mockery  of  their 
irksome  situation,  jesting  on  the  grotesque  companionship 
of  the  dwarf  and  giant.  As  the  gaol-governor  had  shown, 
on  his  first  having  them  conveyed  to  their  cells,  signs  of 
a  special  hostility,  so  did  their  daily  attendant.  But  for 
what  reason  neither  Florence  Kearney  nor  his  faithful 
comrade  could  divine. 


54  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

They  learnt  it  at  length — on  the  third  day  after  their 
entrance  within  the  prison.  All  was  explained  by  the 
door  of  their  cell  being  drawn  open,  exposing  to  view 
the  face  and  figure  of  a  man  well  known  to  them.  And 
from  both  something  like  a  cry  escaped,  as  they  saw 
standing  without,  by  the  side  of  the  gaol  governor- 
Carlos  Santander 


CHAPTER  XL 
A  COLONEL  IN  FULL  FEATHER. 

YES  ;  outside  the  door  of  their  cell  was  Carlos  Santander. 
And  in  full  war  panoply,  wearing  a  magnificent  uniform, 
with  a  glittering  sword  by  his  side,  and  on  his  head  a 
cocked  hat,  surmounted  by  a  panache  of  white  ostrich 
feathers ! 

To  explain  his  presence  there,  and  in  such  guise,  it  is 
necessary  to  return  upon  time  and  state  some  particulars 
of  this  man's  life  not  yet  before  the  reader.  As  already 
said,  he  was  a  native  of  New  Orleans,  but  of  Mexican 
parentage,  and  regarding  himself  as  a  Mexican  citizen 
Something  more  than  a  mere  citizen,  indeed  ;  as,  previous 
to  his  encounter  with  Florence  Kearney,  he  had  been  for  a 
time  resident  in  Mexico,  holding  some  sort  of  appointment 
under  that  Government,  or  from  the  Dictator  himself— 
Santa  Anna.  What  he  was  doing  in  New  Orleans  no  one 
exactly  knew,  though  among  his  intimates  there  was  an 
impression  that  he  still  served  his  Mexican  master,  in  the 
capacity  of  a  secret  agent — a  sort  of  procuradory  or  spy. 
Nor  did  this  suspicion  do  him  wrong :  for  he  was  drawing 
pay  from  Santa  Anna,  and  doing  work  for  him  in  the 
States,  which  could  scarce  be  dignified  with  the  name 
of  diplomacy.  Proof  of  its  vile  character  is  afforded  by 
the  action  he  took  among  the  volunteers  in  Poydras 
Street.  His  presenting  himself  at  their  rendezvous, 

getting  enrolled    in   the  corps,  and  offering  as  a  candi- 
es 


56  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

date  for  the  captaincy,  were  all  done  under  instructions, 
and  with  a  design  which,  for  wickedness  and  cold-blooded 
atrocity,  was  worthy  of  Satan  himself.  Had  he  succeeded 
in  becoming  the  leader  of  this  ill-fated  band,  for  them  the 
upshot  might  have  been  no  worse  ;  though  it  would  not 
have  been  better  ;  since  it  was  his  intention  to  betray  them 
to  the  enemy  at  the  first  opportunity  that  should  offer. 
Thwarted  in  this  intent,  knowing  he  could  no  longer 
show  his  face  among  the  filibusters,  even  though  it  were 
but  as  a  private  in  the  ranks  ;  fearing,  furthermore,  the 
shame  that  awaited  him  in  New  Orleans  soon  as  the  affair 
of  the  steel  shirt  should  get  bruited  about,  he  had  hastily 
decamped  from  that  place,  and,  as  we  now  know,  once  more 
made  his  way  to  Mexico. 

Luckily  for  him,  the  shirt,  or  rather  under-shirt,  business 
leaked  not  out ;  at  least  not  to  reach  the  ears  of  any  one  in 
the  Mexican  capital. 

Nor,  indeed,  was  it  ever  much  known  in  New  Orleans. 
His  second,  Duperon,  for  his  own  sake  not  desiring  to 
make  it  public,  had  refrained  from  speaking  of  it ;  and 
their  doctor,  a  close  little  Frenchman,  controlled  by  Dupe- 
ron, remained  equally  reticent ;  while  all  those  on  the  other 
side — Kearney,  Crittenden,  Rock  and  the  surgeon — had 
taken  departure  for  Texas  on  the  very  day  of  the  duel ; 
from  that  time  forward  having  "  other  fish  to  fry." 

But  there  were  still  the  two  hackney  drivers,  who,  no 
doubt,  had  they  stayed  in  the  Crescent  City  in  pursuit  of 
their  daily  avocation,  would  have  given  notoriety  to  an 
occurrence  curious  as  it  was  scandalous. 

It  chanced,  however,  that  both  the  jarveys  were  Irish- 
men ;  and  suddenly  smitten  with  warlike  aspirations — 
either  from  witnessing  the  spectacle  of  the  duel,  or  the 
gallant  behaviour  of  their  young  countryman — on  that 
same  day  dropped  the  ribbons,  and,  taking  to  a  musket 


A   COLONEL    IN    FULL    TEA I HER.  57 

instead,  were  among  the  men  who  composed  the  ill-started 
expedition  which  came  to  grief  on  the  Rio  Grande. 

So,  for  the  time,  Carlos  Santander  had  escaped  the  brand 
of  infamy  due  to  his  dastardly  act 

His  reappearance  on  the  scene  in  such  grand  garb  needs 
little  explanation.  A  fairly  brave  and  skilled  soldier,  a 
vainer  man  than  General  Antonio  Lopez  de  Santa  Anna 
never  wore  sword,  and  one  of  his  foibles  was  to  see  himself 
surrounded  by  a  glittering  escort.  The  officers  of  his  staff 
were  very  peacocks  in  their  gaudy  adornment,  and  as  a  rule, 
the  best-looking  of  them  were  his  first  favourites.  Santan- 
der, on  returning  to  Mexico,  was  appointed  one  of  his  aides- 
de-camp,  and  being  just  the  sort — a  showy  fellow — soon 
rose  to  rank  ;  so  that  the  defeated  candidate  for  a  captaincy 
of  Texan  Volunteers,  was  now  a  colonel  in  the  Mexican 
Army,  on  the  personal  staff  of  its  Commander-in-Chief. 

Had  Florence  Kearney  and  Cris  Rock  but  known  they 
were  to  meet  this  man  in  Mexico — could  they  have  antici- 
pated seeing  him,  as  he  was  now,  at  the  door  of  their  prison 
cell — their  hearts  would  have  been  fainter  as  they  toiled 
along  the  weary  way,  and  perchance  in  that  lottery  of  life 
and  death  they  might  have  little  cared  whether  they  drew 
black  or  white. 

At  the  sight  of  him  there  rose  up  all  at  once  in  their 
recollection  that  scene  upon  the  Shell  Road  ;  the  Texan 
vividly  recalling  how  he  had  ducked  the  caitiff  in  the 
ditch,  as  how  he  looked  after  crawling  out  upon  the  bank 
— mud  bedraggled  and  covered  with  the  viscous  scum, — \ 
in  strange  contrast  to  his  splendid  appearance  now !  And 
Kearney  well  remembered  the  same,  noting  in  addition  a 
scar  on  Santander's  cheek — he  had  himself  given — which 
the  latter  vainly  sought  to  conceal  beneath  whiskers  since 
permitted  to  grow  their  full  length  and  breadth. 

These  remembrances  were  enough  to  make  the  heart  of 


58  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

the  captive  Irishman  beat  quick,  if  it  did  not  quail ;  while 
that  of  the  Texan  had  like  reason  to  throb  apprehensively. 

Nor  could  they  draw  any  comfort  from  the  expression  on 
Santander's  face.  Instead,  they  but  read  there  what  they 
might  well  believe  to  be  their  death  sentence.  The  man 
was  smiling,  but  it  was  the  smile  of  Lucifer  in  triumph — 
mocking,  malignant,  seeming  to  say,  without  spoken  word 
but,  for  all  that,  emphatically  and  with  determination, — 

"  I  have  you  in  my  power,  and  verily  you  shall  feel  my 
vengeance." 

They  could  tell  it  was  no  accident  had  brought  him  thither 
no  duty  of  prison  inspection — but  the  fiendish  purpose  te 
flaunt  his  grandeur  before  their  eyes,  and  gloat  over  the 
misery  he  knew  it  would  cause  them.  And  his  presence 
explained  what  had  hitherto  been  a  puzzle  to  them — why 
they  two  were  being  made  an  exception  among  their  cap- 
tive comrades,  and  thrown  into  such  strange  fellowship.  It 
must  have  been  to  humiliate  them  ;  as,  indeed,  they  could 
now  tell  by  a  certain  speech  which  the  gaol-governor 
addressed  to  Santander,  as  the  cell  door  turned  back  upon 
<ts  hinges. 

"  There  they  are,  Seftor  Colonel !  As  you  see,  I've  had 
them  coupled  according  to  orders.  What  a  well- matched 
pair  ! "  he  added,  ironically,  as  his  eyes  fell  upon  Cris  Rock 
and  the  hunchback.  "  Ay  Dios !  It's  a  sight  to  draw 
laughter  from  the  most  sober-sided  recluse  that  ever  lodged 
within  these  walls.  Ha  !  ha  !  ha !  " 

It  drew  this  from  Carlos  Santander ;  who,  relishing  the 
jest,  joined  in  the  "ha!  ha!  "  till  the  old  convent  rang  with 
tneir  coarse  ribaldry. 


CHAPTER  XII. 
"Do  YOUR  DARNDEST." 

DURING  all  this  time — only  a  few  seconds  it  was — the 
four  men  within  the  cell  preserved  silence  ;  the  dwarf,  as 
the  door  alone  was  drawn  open,  having  said  to  the  gaol 
governor:  " Buenas  Dids  Excellenza !  you're  coming-  to 
Bet  us  free,  aren't  you  ?  " 

A  mere  bit  of  jocular  bravado  ;  for,  as  might  be  sup- 
posed, the  deformed  wretch  could  have  little  hope  of 
deliverance,  save  by  the  gallows,  to  which  he  had  actually 
been  condemned.  A  creature  of  indomitable  pluck,  how- 
ever, this  had  not  so  far  frightened  him  as  to  hinder 
jesting — a  habit  to  which  he  was  greatly  given.  Besides, 
he  did  not  believe  he  was  going  to  the  garota.  Murderer 
though  he  was,  he  might  expect  pardon,  could  he  only 
find  money  sufficient  to  pay  the  price,  and  satisfy  the 
conscience  of  those  who  had  him  in  keeping. 

His  question  was  neither  answered  nor  himself  taken 
notice  of;  the  attention  of  those  outside  being  now 
directed  upon  the  other  occupants  of  the  cell.  Of  these 
only  two  had  their  faces  so  that  they  could  be  seen.  The 
third,  who  was  the  reputed  robber,  kept  his  turned  towards 
the  wall,  the  opened  door  being  behind  his  back ;  and  this 
attitude  he  preserved,  not  being  called  upon  to  change  it 
till  Santander  had  closed  his  conversation  with  Cris  Rock 
and  Kearney.  He  had  opened  it  in  a  jaunty,  jeering  tone, 
saying,— 

"  Well,  my  brave  Filibusters  1    Is  this  where  you  are  ? 


60  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

Caspita  I  In  a  queer  place  and  queer  company,  too  !  Not 
so  nice,  Sefior  Don  Florencio,  as  that  you  used  to  keep  in 
the  Crescent  City.  And  you,  my  Texan  Colossus  !  I  take 
it  you  don't  find  the  atmosphere  of  the  Acordada  quite  so 
pleasant  as  the  fresh  breezes  of  prairieland,  eh  ?  " 

He  paused,  as  if  to  note  the  effect  of  his  irony  ;  then 
continued, — 

"  So  this  is  the  ending  of  the  grand  Mier  Expedition, 
with  the  further  invasion  of  Mexico  !  Well,  you've  found 
your  way  to  its  capital,  anyhow,  if  you  h  aven't  fought  it. 
And  now  you're  here,  what  do  you  expect,  pray  ?  " 

"  Not  much  o'  good  from  sich  a  scoundrel  as  you,"  re- 
sponded Rock,  in  a  tone  of  reckless  defiance. 

"  What !  No  good  from  me  1  An  old  acquaintance — 
friend,  I  ought  rather  to  call  myself,  after  the  little  scene 
that  passed  between  us  on  the  shores  of  Pontchartrain. 
Come,  gentlemen!  Being  here  among  strangers  you 
should  think  yurselves  fortunate  in  finding  an  old  comrade^ 
of  the  filibustering  band  ;  one  owing  you  so  many  obliga- 
tions. Ah !  well  ;  having  the  opportunity  now,  I  shall 
try  my  best  to  wipe  out  the  indebtedness." 

"  You  kin  do  your  darndest,"  rejoined  Rock  in  the  same 
sullen  tone.  "  We  don't  look  for  marcy  at  your  hands  no- 
somever.  It  ain't  in  ye  ;  an  if't  war,  Cris  Rock  'ud  scorn 
to  claim  it.  So  ye  may  do  yur  crowing  on  a  dunghill, 
whar  there  be  cocks  like  to  be  scared  at  it.  Thar  ain't 
neery  one  o'  that  sort  hyar." 

Santander  was  taken  aback  by  this  unlocked  for  rebuff. 
He  had  come  to  the  Acordada  to  ^indulge  in  the  luxury 
of  a  little  vapouring  over  his  fallen  foes,  whom  he  knew 
to  be  there,  having  been  informed  of  all  that  had  befallen 
them  from  Mier  up  to  Mexico.  He  expected  to  find  them 
cowed,  and  eager  to  crave  life  from  him  ;  which  he  would 
no  more  have  granted  than  to  a  brace  of  dogs  that  had 


"DO   YOUR   DARNDEST.'  6 1 

bitten  him.  But  so  far  from  showing  any  fear,  both 
prisoners  looked  a  little  defiant ;  the  Texan  with  the  air 
of  a  caged  wolf  seeming  ready  to  tear  him  if  he  showed 
but  a  step  over  the  threshold  of  the  cell. 

"  Oh !  very  well,"  he  returned,  making  light  of  what 
Rock  had  said.  "If  you  won't  accept  favours  from  an 
old,  and,  as  you  know,  tried  friend,  I  must  leave  you  so 
without  them.  But,"  he  added,  addressing  himself  more 
directly  to  Kearney : 

"You,  Senor  Irlandes — surely  you  won't  be  so  un- 
reasonable ?  " 

"  Carlos  Santander,"  said  the  young  Irishman,  looking 
his  ci-devant  adversary  full  in  the  face,  "  as  I  proved  you 
not  worth  thrusting  with  my  sword,  I  now  pronounce  you 
not  worth  words — even  to  call  you  coward, — though  that 
you  are  from  the  crown  of  your  head  to  the  soles  of  your 
feet  Not  even  brave  when  your  body  is  encased  in 
armour.  Dastard  !  I  defy  you." 

Though  manifestly  stung  by  the  reminder,  Santander 
preserved  his  coolness.  He  had  this,  if  not  courage — at 
least  a  knack  of  feigning  it.  But  again  foiled  in  the 
attempt  to  humble  the  enemy,  and,  moreover,  dreading 
exposure  in  the  eyes  of  the  gaol-governor — an  old  mill- 
tario — should  the  story  of  the  steel  shirt  come  out  in  the 
conversation,  he  desisted  questioning  the  Tejanos.  Luckily 
for  him  none  of  the  others  there  understood  English—  the 
language  he  and  the  Texans  had  used  in  their  brief,  but 
sharp  exchange  of  words.  Now  addressing  himself  to  the 
governor,  he  said, — 

"  As  you  perceive,  Seftor  Don  Pedro,  these  two  gentle- 
men are  old   acquaintances  of  mine,  whose  present  un- 
fortunate  position    I    regret,    and    would    gladly   relieve. 
Alas !  I  fear  the  law  will  take  its  course." 
At  which  commiserating   remark    Don    Pedro  smiled 


62  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

grimly ;  well  aware  of  the  sort  of  interest  Colonel  San* 
tander  took  in  the  pair  of  prisoners  committed  to  his  care. 
For  the  order  so  to  dispose  of  them  he  knew  to  have  come 
from  Santander  himself!  It  was  not  his  place,  nor  was  he 
the  kind  of  man  to  inquire  into  motives  ;  especially  when 
these  concerned  his  superiors.  Santander  was  an  officer 
on  the  staff  of  the  Dictator,  besides  being  a  favourite  at 
Court.  The  gaol-governor  knew  it,  and  was  subservient. 
Had  he  been  commanded  to  secretly  strangle  the  two  men 
thus  specially  placed  in  his  charge,  or  administer  poison 
to  them,  he  would  have  done  it  without  pity  or  protest. 
The  cruel  tyrant  who  had  made  him  governor  of  the 
Acordada  knew  his  man,  and  had  already,  as  rumour  said, 
with  history  to  confirm  it,  more  than  once  availed  him- 
self of  this  means  to  get  rid  of  enemies,  personal  or 
political. 

During  all  this  interlude  the  robber  had  maintained  his 
position  and  silence,  his  face  turned  to  the  blank  wall  of 
the  cloister,  his  back  upon  all  the  others.  What  his  motive 
for  this  was  neither  of  the  Texans  could  tell ;  and  in  all 
likelihood  Santander  knew  not  himself  any  more  who  the 
man  was.  But  his  behaviour,  from  its  very  strangeness, 
courted  inquiry ;  and  seemingly  struck  with  it,  the  staff- 
colonel,  addressing  himself  to  the  gaol-governor,  said, — 

41  By  the  way,  Don  Pedro,  who  is  your  prisoner,  who 
makes  the  fourth  in  this  curious  quartette  ?  He  seems  shy 
about  showing  his  face,  which  would  argue  it  an  ugly  one 
like  my  own." 

A  bit  of  badinage  in  which  Carlos  Santander  oft  in- 
dulged. He  knew  that  he  was  anything  but  ill-favoured 
as  far  as  face  went. 

"Only  a  gentleman  of  the  road — un  salteador?  re- 
sponded the  governor. 

"An  interesting  sort  of  individual  then,"  said  Santander, 


'DO   YOUR    DARNDEST."  63 

*  Let  me  scan  his  countenance,  and  see  whether  it  be  </ 
the  true  brigand  type — a  Mazaroni  or  Diavolo." 

So  saying,  he  stepped  inside  the  cell,  and  passed  on  till 
he  could  see  over  the  robber's  shoulder,  who  now  slightly 
turning  his  head,  faced  towards  him.  Not  a  word  was 
exchanged  between  the  two,  but  from  the  looks  it  was 
clear  they  were  old  acquaintances,  Santander  starting  as 
he  recognised  the  other ;  while  his  glance  betrayed  a 
hostility  strong  and  fierce  as  that  felt  for  either  Florence 
Kearney  or  the  Texan.  A  slight  exclamation,  involuntary, 
but  telling  of  anger,  was  all  that  passed  his  lips  as  his  eyes 
met  a  pair  of  other  eyes  which  seemed  to  pierce  his  very 
heart. 

He  stayed  not  for  more ;  but  turning  upon  his  heel, 
made  direct  for  the  door.  Not  to  reach  it,  however,  without 
interruption.  In  his  hurry  to  be  gone,  he  stumbled  over 
the  legs  of  the  Texan,  that  stretched  across  the  cell,  nearly 
from  side  to  side.  Angered  by  the  obstruction,  he  gave 
them  a  spiteful  kick,  then  passed  on  outward.  By  good 
fortune  fast  and  far  out  of  reach,  otherwise  Cris  Rock,  who 
sprang  to  his  feet,  and  on  for  the  entrance,  jerking  the 
dwarf  after,  would  in  all  probability  there  and  then  have 
taken  his  life. 

As  it  was,  the  gaol-governor,  seeing  the  danger,  suddenly 
shut  the  cloister  door,  so  saving  it 

"  Jest  as  I've  been  tellin'  ye  all  along,  Cap,"  coolly  re- 
marked Rock,  as  the  slammed  door  ceased  to  make  ic- 
sonance ;  "  we  shed  ha'  hanged  the  skunk,  or  shot  him  thar 
an'  then  on  the  Shell  Road.  Twar  a  foolish  thi  *£  lettin' 
him  out  o'  that  ditch  when  I  had  him  in  it.  Darn  the 
luck  o'  my  not  drownin'  him  outright  I  We're  iik*  to  sup 
sorrow  for  it  now." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 
THE  EXILES  RETURNED. 

OF  the  dramatis  persona  of  our  tale,  already  known  to 
our  reader,  Carlos  Santander,  Florence  Kearney,  and  Cris 
Rock  were  not  the  only  ones  who  had  shifted  residence 
from  the  City  of  New  Orleans  to  that  of  Mexico.  Within 
the  months  intervening  two  others  had  done  the  same — 
these  Don  Ignacio  Valverde  and  his  daughter.  The 
banished  exile  had  not  only  returned  to  his  native  land, 
but  his  property  had  been  restored  to  him,  and  himself 
reinstated  in  the  favour  of  the  Dictator. 

More  still,  he  had  now  higher  rank  than  ever  before ; 
since  he  had  been  appointed  a  Minister  of  State.  , 

For  the  first  upward  step  on  this  progressive  ladder  of 
prosperity  Don  Ignacio  owed  all  to  Carlos  Santander 
The  handsome  aide-de-camp,  having  the  ear  of  his  chief, 
found  little  difficulty  in  getting  the  ban  removed,  with 
leave  given  the  refugee — criminal  only  in  a  political  sense 
—to  come  back  to  his  country. 

The  motive  will  easily  be  guessed.  Nothing  of  either 
friendship  or  humanity  actuated  Santander.  Alone  the 
passion  of  love  ;  which  had  to  do  not  with  Don  Ignacio 
— but  his  daughter.  In  New  Orleans  he  himself  dared 
no  longer  live,  and  so  could  no  more  see  Luisa  Valverde 
there.  Purely  personal  then  ;  a  selfish  love,  such  as  he 
could  feel,  was  the  motive  for  his  intercession  with  the 
political  chief  of  Mexico  to  pardon  the  political  criminal. 
But  if  he  had  been  the  means  of  restoring  Don  Ignacio  to 


THE   EXILES   RETURNED.  65 

his  country,  that  was  all.  True,  there  was  the  restitution 
of  the  exile's  estates,  but  this  followed  as  a  consequence 
on  reinstatement  in  his  political  rights.  The  after  honours 
and  emoluments — with  the  appointment  to  a  seat  in  the 
Cabinet — came  from  the  Chief  of  the  State,  Santa  Anna 
himself.  And  his  motive  for  thus  favouring  a  man  who 
had  lately,  and  for  long,  been  his  political  foe  was  pre- 
cisely the  same  as  that  which  actuated  Carlos  Santander. 
The  Dictator  of  Mexico,  as  famed  for  his  gallantries  in 
love  as  his  gallantry  in  war — and  indeed  somewhat  more 
— had  looked  upon  Luisa  Valverde,  and  "  saw  that  she  was 
fair." 

For  Don  Ignacio  himself,  as  the  recipient  of  these 
favours,  much  may  be  said  in  extenuation.  Banishment 
from  one's  native  land,  with  loss  of  property,  and  separa- 
tion from  friends  as  from  best  society ;  condemned  to  live 
in  another  land,  where  all  these  advantages  are  unattain- 
able, amidst  a  companionship  uncongenial ;  add  to  this 
the  necessity  of  work,  whether  mental  or  physical  toil,  to 
support  life — the  res  augusta  domi ;  sum  up  all  these,  and 
you  have  the  history  of  Don  Ignacio  Valverde  during  his 
residence  in  New  Orleans.  He  bore  all  patiently  and 
bravely,  as  man  could  and  should.  For  all  he  was  willing 
— and  it  cannot  be  wondered  at  that  he  was — when  the 
day  came,  and  a  letter  reached  him  bearing  the  State 
seal  of  the  Mexican  Republic — for  its  insignia  were  yet 
unchanged — to  say  that  he  had  received  pardon,  and  could 
return  home. 

He  knew  the  man  who  had  procured  it  for  him — Carlos 
Santander— and  had  reason  to  suspect  something  of  the 
motive.  But  the  mouth  of  a  gift  horse  must  not  be  too 
narrowly  examined  ;  and  Santander,  ever  since  that  night 
when  he  behaved  so  rudely  in  Don  Ignacio's  house,  had 
been  chary  in  showing  his  face.  In  point  of  fact,  he  had 

F 


66  THE    FREE   LANCES. 

made  but  one  more  visit  to  the  Calk  de  Casa  Calvo  here, 
presenting  himself  several  days  after  the  duel  with  a  patch 
of  court  plaister  on  his  cheek,  and  his  arm  in  a  sling.  An 
invalid,  interesting  from  the  cause  which  made  him  an 
invalid,  he  gave  his  own  account  of  it,  knowing  there  was 
but  little  danger  of  its  being  contradicted ;  Duperon's 
temper,  he  understood,  with  that  of  the  French  doctor, 
securing  silence.  The  others  were  all  G.T.T.  (gone  to 
Texas),  the  hack-drivers,  as  he  had  taken  pains  to  assure 
himself.  No  fear,  therefore,  of  what  he  alleged  getting 
denial  or  being  called  in  question. 

It  was  to  the  effect  that  he  had  fought  Florence 
Kearney,  and  given  more  and  worse  wounds  than  he 
himself  had  received — enough  of  them,  and  sufficiently 
dangerous,  to  make  it  likely  that  his  adversary  would 
not  long  survive. 

He  did  not  say  this  to  Luisa  Valverde — only  to  her 
father.  When  she  heard  it  second  hand,  it  came  nigh 
killing  her.  But  then  the  informant  had  gone  away — 
perhaps  luckily  for  himself — and  could  not  further  be 
questioned.  When  met  again  in  Mexico,  months  after,  he 
told  the  same  tale.  He  had  no  doubt,  however,  that  his 
duelling  adversary,  so  terribly  gashed  as  to  be  in  danger 
of  dying,  still  lived.  For  an  American  paper  which  gave 
an  account  of  the  battle  of  Mier,  had  spoken  of  Captain 
Kearney  in  eulogistic  terms,  while  not  giving  his  name  in 
the  death  list ;  this  Santander  had  read.  The  presumption, 
therefore,  was  of  Kearney  being  among  the  survivors. 

Thus  stood  things  in  the  city  of  Mexico  at  the  time 
the  Mier  prisoners  entered  it,  as  relates  to  the  persons 
who  have  so  far  found  place  in  our  story — Carlos  San- 
tander, a  colonel  on  the  staff  of  the--Dictator  ;  Don  Ignacio 
Valverde,  a  Minister  of  £tate  .  njs  daughter,  a  reigning 
belle  of  society,  with  no  aspirations  therefor,  but  solely  on 


THE    EXILES    RETURNED.  6j 

account  of  her  beauty  ;  Florence  Kearney,  late  Captain  of 
the  Texan  filibusters,  with  Cris  Rock,  guide,  scout,  and 
general  skirmisher  of  the  same — these  last  shut  up  in  a 
loathsome  prison,  one  linked  leg  to  leg  with  a  robber,  the 
other  sharing  the  chain  of  a  murderer,  alike  crooked  in 
soul  as  in  body  ! 

That  for  the  Texan  prisoners  there  was  yet  greater 
degradation  in  store — one  of  them,  Kearney,  was  made 
aware  the  moment  after  the  gaol-governor  had  so  un- 
ceremoniously shut  the  door  of  their  cell.  The  teaching 
of  Don  Ignacio  in  New  Orleans  had  not  been  thrown 
away  upon  him ;  and  this,  with  the  practice  since  ac- 
cruing through  conversation  with  the  soldiers  of  their 
escort,  had  made  him  almost  a  master  of  the  Spanish 
tongue. 

Carlos  Santander  either  did  not  think  of  this,  or  sup- 
posed the  cloister  door  too  thick  to  permit  of  speech  in 
the  ordinary  tone  passing  through  it.  It  did,  notwith- 
standing ;  what  he  said  outside  to  the  governor  reaching 
the  Irishman's  ear,  and  giving  him  a  yet  closer  clue  to 
that  hitherto  enigma — the  why  he  and  Cris  Rock  had 
been  cast  into  a  common  gaol,  among  the  veriest  and 
vilest  of  malefactors. 

The  words  of  Santander  were, — 

"  As  you  see,  Senor  Don  Pedro,  the  two  Tejanos  are  old 
acquaintance.,  of  mine.  I  met  them  not  in  Texas,  but  the 
United  States — New  Orleans — where  we  had  certain  re- 
lations ;  I  need  not  particularize  you.  Only  to  say  that 
both  the  gentlemen  left  me  very  much  in  theL  debt ;  and 
I  now  wish,  above  all  things,  to  wipe  out  the  score.  I 
hope  I  may  count  upon  you  to  help  me !  " 

There  could  be  no  mistaking  what  he  meant.  Anything 
but  a  repayal  of  friendly  services,  in  the  way  of  gratitude ; 
instead,  an  appeal  to  the  gaol-governor  to  assist  him  in 


68  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

some  scheme  of  vengeance.  So  the  latter  understood  it, 
as  evinced  by  his  rejoinder, — 

"  Of  course  you  can,  Seftor  Colonel.  Only  say  what 
you  wish  done.  Your  commands  are  sufficient  authority 
for  me." 

"Well,"  said  Santander,  after  an  interval  apparently 
spent  in  considering,  "  as  a  first  step,  I  wish  you  to  give 
these  gentlemen  an  airing  in  the  street ;  not  alone  the 
Tejanos,  but  all  four." 

"  Caspita  / "  exclaimed  the  governor,  with  a  look  of 
feigned  surprise.  "  They  ought  to  be  thankful  for  that." 

"  They  won't,  however.  Not  likely  ;  seeing  their  com- 
pany, and  the  occupation  I  want  them  put  at." 

"Which  is?" 

"  A  little  job  in  the  xancas/n 

"  In  which  street  ?  " 

"  The  Calle  de  Plateros.  I  observe  that  its  stones  are 
up." 

"And  when?" 

"  To-morrow— at  midday.  Have  them  there  before 
noon,  and  let  them  be  kept  until  night,  or,  at  all  events 
till  the  procession  has  passed.  Do  you  quite  understand 
me?" 

"  I  think  I  do,  Seftor  Colonel.  About  their  jewellery — is 
that  to  be  on  ?  " 

"  Every  link  of  it.  I  want  them  to  be  coupled,  just  as 
they  are  now — dwarf  to  giant,  and  the  two  grand  gentle- 
men together." 

"  Bueno  /    It  shall  be  done/1 

So  closed  the  curious  dialogue,  or,  if  continued,  what 
came  after  it  did  not  reach  the  ears  of  Florence  Kearney ; 
they  who  conversed  having  sauntered  off  beyond  his 
hearing.  When  he  had  translated  what  he  heard  to  Cris 
Rock,  the  latter,  like  himself,  was  uncertain  as  to  what  it 


THE   EXILES    RETURNED.  69 

meant  Not  so  either  of  their  prison  companions,  who 
had  likewise  listened  to  the  conversation  outside — both 
better  comprehending  it. 

"  Bueno,  indeed  ! "  cried  the  dwarf,  echoing  the  gaol- 
governor's  exclamation.  "  It  shall  be  done.  Which  means 
that  before  this  time  to-morrow,  we'll  all  four  of  us  be 
up  to  our  middle  in  mud.  Won't  that  be  nice  >  Ha  !  ha  I 
ha!" 

And  the  imp  laughed,  as  though,  instead  of  something 
repulsive,  he  expected  a  pleasure  of  the  most  enjoyable 
kind. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

ON     THE    AZOTEA. 

IN  the  city  of  Mexico  the  houses  are  flat- roofed,  the  roof 
bearing  the  name  of  azotea.  A  parapetted  wall,  some 
three  or  four  feet  in  height,  runs  all  round  to  separate 
those  of  the  adjacent  houses  from  one  another  when  they 
chance  to  be  on  the  same  level,  and  also  prevent  falling 
off.  Privacy,  besides,  has  to  do  with  this  protective  screen ; 
the  azotea  being  a  place  of  almost  daily  resort,  if  the 
weather  be  fine,  and  a  favourite  lounging  place,  where 
visitors  are  frequently  received.  This  peculiarity  in  dwell- 
ing-house architecture  has  an  oriental  origin,  and  is  still 
common  among  the  Moors,  as  all  round  the  Mediterranean. 
Strange  enough,  the  Conquistadors  found  something  very 
similar  in  the  New  World — conspicuously  among  the 
Mexicans — where  the  Aztecan  houses  were  flat  or  terrace- 
topped.  Examples  yet  exist  in  Northern  and  New 
Mexico,  in  the  towns  of  the  Pecos  Zunis,  and  Moquis.  It 
is  but  natural,  therefore,  that  the  people  who  now  call 
themselves  Mexicans  should  have  followed  a  pattern  thus 
furnished  them  by  their  ancestry  in  both  hemispheres. 

Climate  has  much  to  do  with  this  sort  of  roof,  as  regards 
its  durability  \  no  sharp  frosts  or  heavy  snows  being  there 
to  affect  it.  Besides,  in  no  country  in  the  world  is  out-door 
life  more  enjoyable  than  in  Mexico,  the  rainy  months 
excepted ;  and  in  them  the  evenings  are  dry.  Still 
another  cause  contributes  to  make  the  roof  of  a  Mexican 

house  a  pleasant  place  of  resort.     Sea-coal  and  its  smoke 

70 


ON    THE   AZOTEA.  Jl 

are  things  there  unknown  ;  indeed  chimneys,  if  not  alto- 
gether absent,  are  few  and  far  between  ;  such  as  there  are 
being  inconspicuous.  In  the  siempre-verano  (eternal  spring) 
of  Anahuac  there  is  no  call  for  them  ;  a  wood  fire  here 
and  there  kindled  in  some  sitting-room  being  a  luxury  of 
a  special  kind,  indulged  in  only  by  the  very  delicate  or 
very  rich.  In  the  kitchens,  charcoal  is  the  commodity 
employed,  and  as  this  yields  no  visible  sign,  the  outside 
atmosphere  is  preserved  pure  and  cloudless  as  that  which 
overhung  the  Hesperides. 

A  well-appointed  azotea  is  provided  with  pots  contain- 
ing shrubs  and  evergreen  plants  ;  some  even  having  small 
trees,  as  the  orange,  lime,  camellia,  ferns,  and  palms  ;  while 
here  and  there  one  is  conspicuous  by  a  mirador  (belvedere) 
arising  high  above  the  parapet  to  afford  a  better  view  of 
the  surrounding  country. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  find  landscape  more  lovely,  or 
more  interesting,  than  that  which  surrounds  the  city  of 
Mexico.  Look  in  what  direction  one  will,  the  eye  is  fur- 
nished with  a  feast.  Plains,  verdant  and  varied  in  tint, 
from  the  light  green  of  the  milpas  (young  maize),  to  the 
more  sombre  maguey  plants,  which,  in  large  plantations 
(magueyals),  occupy  a  considerable  portion  of  the  surface ; 
fields  of  chile  pepper  and  frijoles  (kidney  beans)  ;  here  and 
there  wide  sheets  of  water  between,  glistening  silver-like 
under  the  sun  ;  bounding  all  a  periphery  of  mountains, 
more  than  one  of  their  summits  white  with  never-melting 
snow — the  grandest  mountains,  too,  since  they  are  the 
Cordilleras  of  the  Sierra  Madre  or  main  Andean  chain, 
which  here  parted  by  some  Plutonic  caprice,  in  its  embrace 
the  beautiful  valley  of  Mexico,  elevated  more  than  seven 
thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea. 

Surveying  it  from  any  roof  in  the  city  itself,  the  scene  is 
one  to  delight  the  eye  and  gladden  the  heart.  And  yet 


7  2  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

on  the  azotea  of  a  certain  house,  or  rather  in  the  mirador 
above  it,  stood  a  young  lady,  who  looked  over  it  without 
delight  in  her  eye  or  gladness  in  her  heart.  Instead,  the 
impression  upon  her  countenance  told  of  thoughts  that, 
besides  being  sad,  dwelt  not  on  the  landscape  or  its  beau- 
ties. 

Luisa  Valverde  it  was,  thinking  of  another  land,  beauti- 
ful too,  where  she  had  passed  several  years  in  exile  ;  the 
last  of  them  marked  by  an  era  the  sweetest  and  happiest 
of  her  life.  For  it  was  there  she  first  loved  ;  Florence 
Kearney  being  he  who  had  won  her  heart.  And  the  be- 
loved one — where  was  he  now  ?  She  knew  not ;  did  not 
even  know  whether  he  still  lived.  He  had  parted  from 
her  without  giving  any  clue,  though  it  gave  pain  to  her 
— ignorant  of  the  exigencies  which  had  ruled  his  sudden 
departure  from  New  Orleans.  He  had  told  her,  however, 
of  his  becoming  captain  of  the  volunteer  band  ;  which,  as 
she  soon  after  became  aware,  had  proceeded  direct  to 
Texas.  Furthermore,  she  had  heard  all  about  the  issue  of 
the  ill-fated  expedition  ;  of  the  gallant  struggle  made  by  the 
men  composing  it,  with  the  havoc  caused  in  their  ranks  ; 
of  the  survivors  being  brought  on  to  the  city  of  Mexico, 
and  the  cruel  treatment  they  had  been  submitted  to  on 
the  march  ;  of  their  daring  attempt  to  escape  from  the 
Guards,  its  successful  issue  for  a  time,  till  their  sufferings 
among  the  mountains  compelled  them  to  a  second  surren- 
der— in  short,  everything  that  had  happened  to  that  brave 
band  of  which  her  lover  was  one  of  the  leaders. 

She  had  been  in  Mexico  throughout  all  this ;  for  shortly 
after  the  departure  of  the  volunteers  for  Orleans,  her  father 
had  received  the  pardon  we  have  spoken  of.  And  there 
she  had  been  watching  the  Mier  Expedition  through  every 
step  of  its  progress,  eagerly  collecting  every  scrap  of  infor- 
mation relating  to  it  published  in  the  Mexican  papers; 


ON    THE    AZOTEA.  73 

with  anxious  heart,  straining  her  ears  over  the  lists  of 
killed  and  wounded.  And  when  at  length  the  account 
came  of  the  shootings  at  El  Salado,  apprehensively  as  ever 
scanned  she  that  death-roll  of  nigh  twenty  names — the 
decimated ;  not  breathing  freely  until  she  had  reached  the 
last,  and  saw  that  no  more  among  these  was  his  she  feared 
to  find. 

So  far  her  researches  were,  in  a  sense,  satisfactory.  Still, 
she  was  not  satisfied.  Neither  to  read  or  hear  word  of 
him — that  seemed  strange  ;  was  so  in  her  way  of  thinking. 
Such  a  hero  as  he,  how  could  his  name  be  hidden  ? 
Gallant  deeds  were  done  by  the  Tejanos,  their  Mexican 
enemies  admitted  it.  Surely  in  these  Don  Florencio  had 
taken  part,  and  borne  himself  bravely  ?  Yes,  she  was  sure 
of  that.  But  why  had  he  not  been  mentioned  ?  And 
where  was  he  now  ? 

The  last  question  was  that  which  most  frequently  occu- 
pied her  mmd,  constantly  recurring.  She  could  think  of 
but  one  answer  to  it ;  this  saddening  enough.  He  might 
never  have  reached  the  Rio  Grande,  but  perished  on  the 
way.  Perhaps  his  life  had  come  to  an  inglorious  though 
not  ignominious  end — by  disease,  accident,  or  other  fatality 
— and  his  body  might  now  be  lying  in  some  lonely  spot  of 
the  prairies,  where  his  marching  comrades  had  hastily 
buried  it. 

More  than  once  had  Luisa  Valverde  given  way  to  such  a 
train  of  reflection  during  the  months  after  her  return  to 
Mexico.  They  had  brought  pallor  to  her  cheeks  and 
melancholy  into  her  heart.  So  much,  that  not  all  the 
honours  to  which  her  father  had  been  restored — not  all  the 
compliments  paid  to  herself,  nor  the  Court  gaieties  in 
which  she  was  expected  to  take  part — could  win  her  from 
a  gloom  that  seemed  likely  to  become  settled  on  her 
soul. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

WAITING  AND   WATCHING. 

As  a  rule,  people  of  melancholy  temperament,  or  with 
a  sorrow  at  the  heart,  give  way  to  it  within  doors  in  the 
privacy  of  their  own  apartments.  The  daughter  of  Don 
Ignacio  had  been  more  often  taught  to  assuage  hers  upon 
the  house-top,  to  which  she  was  accustomed  to  ascend 
daily,  staying  there  for  hours  alone.  For  this  she  had 
opportunity ;  her  father,  busied  with  State  affairs,  spending 
most  of  his  time — at  least  during  th"<T  diurnal  hours — at 
Government  headquarters  in  the  Palacio. 

On  this  day,  however,  Luisa  Valverde  mounted  up  to 
the  azotea  with  feelings,  and  under  an  impulse,  very 
different  from  that  hitherto  actuating  her.  Her  behaviour, 
too,  was  different.  When  she  made  her  way  up  and  took 
stand  inside  the  mirador,  her  eyes,  instead  of  wandering  all 
around,  or  resting  dreamily  on  the  landscape,  with  no  care 
for  its  attractions,  were  turned  in  a  particular  direction,  and 
became  fixed  upon  a  single  point.  This  was  where  the 
road,  running  from  the  city  to  Tacubaya,  'alongside  the 
aqueduct  of  Chapultepec,  parts  from  the  latter,  diverging 
abruptly  to  the  left.  Beyond  this  point  the  causeway, 
carried  on  among  maguey  plants,  and  Peruvian  pepper 
trees,  cannot  be  seen  from  the  highest  house-top  in  the 
city. 

Why  on  this  day,  more  than  any  other,  did  the  young 
lady  direct  her  glance  to  the  bend  in  the  road,  there  keep- 
ing it  steadfast  ?  For  what  reason  was  the  expression 

74 


WAITING   AND   WATCHING.  75 

upon  her  countenance  so  different  from  that  of  other  days  ? 
No  listless  look  now ;  instead,  an  earnest  eager  gaze,  as 
though  she  expected  to  see  some  one  whose  advent  was  of 
the  greatest  interest  to  her.  It  could  only  be  the  coming 
of  some  one,  as  one  going  would  have  been  long  since 
visible  by  the  side  of  the  aqueduct 

And  one  she  did  expect  to  come  that  way ;  no  grand 
cavalier  on  prancing  steed,  but  a  simple  pedestrian — in 
short,  her  own  servant.  She  had  sent  him  on  an  errand  to 
Tacubaya,  and  was  now  watching  for,  and  awaiting  his 
return.  It  was  the  nature  of  his  errand  which  caused  her 
to  look  for  him  so  earnestly. 

On  DO  common  business  had  he  been  despatched,  but 
one  of  a  confidential  character,  and  requiring  tact  in  its 
execution.  But  Jose,  a  mestizo  whom  she  had  commis- 
sioned, possessed  this,  besides  having  her  confidence,  and 
she  had  no  fear  of  his  betraying  her.  Not  that  it  was  a 
life  or  death  matter ;  only  a  question  of  delicacy.  For  his 
errand  was  to  inquire,  whether  among  the  Texan  prisoners 
taken  to  Tacubaya  one  was  called  Florence  Kearney. 

As  it  was  now  the  third  day  after  their  arrival  in  Mexico, 
it  may  be  wondered  why  the  young  lady  had  not  sought 
this  information  before.  The  explanation  is  easy.  Her 
father  owned  a  country  house  in  the  environs  of  San 
Augustine,  some  ten  miles  from  the  city  ;  and  there  stay- 
ing she  had  only  the  day  before  heard  that  the  captive 
train,  long  looked  for,  had  at  length  arrived.  Soon  as 
hearing  it,  she  had  hastened  her  return  to  town,  and  was 
now  taking  steps  to  ascertain  whether  her  lover  still 
lived. 

She  did  not  think  of  making  inquiry  at  the  Acordada, 
though  a  rumour  had  reached  her  that  some  of  the 
prisoners  were  there.  But  surely  not  Don  Florencio  !  If 
alive,  it  was  not  likely  he  would  be  thus  disgraced  :  at  least 


76  THE   FREE    LANCES. 

i 

she  could  not  believe  it.  Little  dreamt  she  of  the  malice 
that  was  moving,  and  in,  secret,  to  degrade  in  her  eyes 
the  man  who  was  uppermost  in  her  thoughts. 

And  as  little  suspected  she  when  one  of  the  house 
domestics  came  upon  the  azotea  and  handed  her  a  large 
ornamental  envelope,  bearing  the  State  arms,  that  it  was 
part  of  the  malignant  scheme. 

Breaking  it  open  she  drew  out  an  embossed  and  gilded 
card — a  ticket.  It  came  from  the  Dictator,  inviting  Dona 
Luisa  Valverde  to  be  present  in  a  grand  procession,  which 
was  to  take  place  on  the  following  day ;  intimating,  more- 
over, that  one  of  the  State  carriages  would  be  at  the  dis- 
posal of  herself  and  party. 

There  were  but  few  ladies  in  the  city  of  Mexico  who 
would  not  have  been  flattered  by  such  an  invitation  ;  all 
the  more  from  the  card  bearing  the  name,  Antonio  Lopez 
de  Santa  Anna,  signed  by  himself,  with  the  added  phrase 
"con  estima  particular." 

But  little  cared  she  for  the  flattery.  Rather  did  it  cause 
her  a  feeling  of  disgust,  with  something  akin  to  fear.  It 
was  not  the  first  time  for  the  ruler  of  Mexico  to  pay  com- 
pliments and  thus  press  his  attentions  upon  her. 

Soon  as  glanced  over,  she  let  the  despised  thing  fall, 
almost  flinging  it  at  her  feet ;  and  once  more  bent  her 
eyes  upon  the  Tacubaya  Road,  first  carrying  her  glance 
along  the  side  of  the  aqueduct  to  assure  herself  that  her 
messenger  had  not  in  the  meanwhile  rounded  the  corner. 

He  had  not,  and  she  continued  to  watch  impatiently  ; 
the  invitation  to  ride  in  the  State  carriage  being  as  much 
out  of  her  mind  as  though  she  had  never  received  it. 

Not  many  minutes  longer  before  being  intruded  on. 
This  time,  however,  by  no  domestic  ;  instead  a  lady — like 
herself,  young  and  beautiful,  but  beauty  of  an  altogether 
different  style.  Though  of  pure  Spanish  descent,  Luisa 


WAITING   AND    WATCHING.  77 

Valverde  was  a  giiera ;  her  complexion  bright,  with  hair 
of  sunny  hue.  Such  there  are  in  Mexico,  tracing  their 
ancestry  to  the  shores  of  Biscay's  famous  bay. 

She  who  now  appeared  upon  the  azotea  was  dark  ;  her 
skin  showing  a  tinge  of  golden  brown,  with  a  profusion  of 
black  hair  plaited  and  coiled  as  a  coronet  around  her  head. 
A  crayon-like  shading  showed  upon  her  upper  lip — which 
on  that  of  a  man  would  have  been  termed  a  moustache — 
rendering  whiter  by  contrast  teeth  already  of  dazzling 
whiteness ;  while  for  the  same  reason,  the  red  upon  her 
cheeks  was  of  the  deep  tint  of  a  damask  rose.  The  tones 
of  all,  however,  were  in  perfect  harmony  ;  and  distributed 
over  features  of  the  finest  mould  produced  a  face  in  which 
soft  feminine  beauty  vied  with  a  sort  of  savage  picturesque- 
ness,  making  it  piquantly  attractive. 

It  was  altogether  a  rare  bewitching  face ;  part  of  its 
witchery  being  due  to  the  raza  Andalnsiana — and  beyond 
that  the  Moriscan — but  as  much  of  it  coming  from  the 
ancient  blood  of  Anahuae — possibly  from  the  famed 
Malinche  herself.  For  the  young  lady  delineated  was  the 
Condes  Almonte* — descended  from  one  of  Conquistadors 
who  had  wedded  an  Aztec  princess — the  beautiful  Ysabel 
Almonte*,  whose  charms  were  at  the  time  the  toast  of  every 
ctrcle  in  Mexico, 


CHAPTER  XVI. 
A  MUTUAL  MISAPPREHENSION. 

LuiSA  VALVERDE  and  Ysabel  Almonte*  were  fast  friends — 
so  fondly  intimate  that  scarcely  a  day  passed  without  their 
seeing  one  another  and  exchanging  confidences.  They 
lived  in  the  same  street ;  the  Condesa  having  a  house  of 
her  own,  though  nominally  owned  by  her  grandaunt  and 
guardian.  For,  besides  being  beautiful  and  possessed  of 
a  title — one  of  the  few  still  found  in  Mexico,  relics  of  the 
old  regime — Ysabel  Amontd  was  immensely  rich  ;  had 
houses  in  the  city,  haciendas  in  the  country,  property 
everywhere.  She  had  a  will  of  her  own  as  well,  and  spent 
her  wealth  according  to  her  inclinations,  which  were  all  on 
the  side  of  generosity,  even  to  caprice.  By  nature  a  light- 
hearted,  joyous  creature,  gay  and  merry,  as  one  of  the 
bright  birds  of  her  country,  it  was  a  rare  thing  to  see  sad- 
ness upon  her  face.  And  yet  Luisa  Valverde,  looking 
down  from  the  mirador,  saw  that  now.  There  was  a 
troubled  expression  upon  it,  excitement  in  her  eyes,  atti- 
tude, and  gestures,  while  her  bosom  rose  and  fell  in  quick 
pulsations.  True,  she  had  run  up  the  escalera — a  stair  of 
four  flights — without  pause  or  rest ;  and  that  might  ac- 
count for  her  laboured  breathing.  But  not  for  the^flush  on 
her  cheek,  and  the  sparkle  in  her  eyes.  These  came  from 
a  different  cause,  though  the  same  one  which  had  carried 
her  up  the  long  stairway  without  pausing  to  take  breath. 

She  had  not  enough  now  left  to  declare  it ;  but  stood 
panting  and  speechless. 


A   MUTUAL   MISAPPREHENSION.  79 

"  Madre  de  Dios!"  exclaimed  her  friend  in  an  accent 
of  alarm.  "  What  is  it,  Ysabel  ? " 

"  Madre  de  Dios  !  I  say  too,"  gasped  the  Condesa.  "  Oh, 
Luisita  !  what  do  you  think  ?  " 

"What?" 

"  They've  taken  him — they  have  him  in  prison  ! " 

"  He  lives  then— still  lives  !     Blessed  be  the  Virgin !  * 

Saying  which  Luisa  Valverde  crossed  her  arms  over  her 
breast,  and  with  eyes  raised  devotionally  towards  heaven, 
seemed  to  offer  up  a  mute,  but  fervent  thanksgiving. 

"  Still  lives ! "  echoed  the  Condesa,  with  a  look  of 
mingled  surprise  and  perplexity. 

"  Of  course  he  does ;  surely  you  did  not  think  he  was 
dead  ! " 

"  Indeed  I  knew  not  what  to  think — so  long  since  I  saw 
or  heard  of  him.  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  he's  here,  even  though 
in  a  prison  ;  for  while  there's  life  there's  hope." 

By  this  the  Condesa  had  recovered  breath,  though  not 
composure  of  countenance.  Its  expression  alone  was 
changed  from  the  look  of  trouble  to  one  of  blank  astonish- 
ment. What  could  her  friend  mean  ?  Why  glad  of  his 
being  in  a  prison  ?  For  all  the  while  she  was  thinking  of 
a  him. 

"  Hope  1"  she  ejaculated  again  as  an  echo,  then  remain- 
ing silent,  and  looking  dazed-like. 

"  Yes,  Ysabel ;  I  had  almost  despaired  of  him.  But  are 
you  sure  they  have  him  here  in  prison  ?  I  was  in  fear  that 
he  had  been  killed  in  battle,  or  died  upon  the  march,  some- 
where in  those  great  prairies  of  Texas " 

"  Carramba  /  "  interrupted  the  young  Countess,  who,  free 
of  speech,  was  accustomed  to  interlarding  it  with  her  country 
forms  of  exclamation.  "  What's  all  this  about  prairies  and 
Texas  ?  So  far  as  I  know,  Ruperto  was  never  there  in  his 
life," 


8O  THE    FREE   LANCES. 

« 

"Ruperto!"  echoed  the  other,  the  joy  which  had  so 
suddenly  lit  up  her  features  as  suddenly  returning  to 
shadow.  "  I  thought  you  were  speaking  of  Florencio." 

They  understood  each  other  now.  Long  since  had  their 
love  secrets  been  mutually  confessed  ;  and  Luisa  Valverde 
needed  no  telling  who  Ruperto  was.  Independent  of  wha 
she  had  lately  learned  from  the  Condesa,  she  knew  him  tt 
be  a  gentleman  of  good  family,  a  soldier  of  some  reputa- 
tion ;  but  who — as  once  her  own  father — had  the  mis- 
fortune to  belong  to  the  party  now  out  of  power ;  many  of 
them  in  exile,  or  retired  upon  their  estates  in  the  country 
— for  the  time  taking  no  part  in  politics.  As  for  himself, 
he  had  not  been  lately  seen  in  the  city  of  Mexico,  though 
it  was  said  he  was  still  in  the  country;  as  rumour  had  it, 
hiding  away  somewhere  among  the  mountains.  And 
rumour  went  further,  even  to  the  defiling  of  his  fair  name. 
There  were  reports  of  his  having  become  a  robber,  and 
that,  under  another  name,  he  was  now  chief  of  a  band 
of  salteadores,  whose  deeds  were  oft  heard  of  on  the 
Acapulco  Road,  where  this  crosses  the  mountains  near 
that  place  of  many  murders — the  Cruzdel  Marques. 

Nothing  of  this  sinister  tale,  however,  had  reached  the 
ears  of  Don  Ignacio's  daughter.  Nor  till  that  day — indeed 
that  very  hour — had  she,  more  interested  in  him,  heard 
aught  of  it.  Hence  much  of  the  wild  excitement  under 
which  she  was  labouring. 

"  Forgive  me,  Ysabel ! "  said  her  friend,  opening  her 
arms,  and  receiving^  the  Countess  in  sympathetic  embrace  ; 
"  forgive  me  for  the  mistake  I  have  made." 

"Nay,  'tis  I  who  should  ask  forgiveness,"  returned  the 
other,  seeing  the  misapprehension  her  words  had  caused, 
with  their  distressing  effect.  "  I  ought  to  have  spoken 
plainer.  But  you  know  how  murh  my  thoughts  have  been 
dwelling  on  dear  Ruperto." 


A   MUTUAL   MISAPPREHENSION.  8 1 

She  did  know,  or  should,  judging  by  herself,  and  how 
hers  had  been  dwelling  on  dear  Florencio. 

"  But,  Ysabel :  you  say  they  made  him  a  prisoner ! 
Who  has  done  that,  and  why  ?  " 

"  The  soldiers  of  the  State.  As  to  why,  you  can  easily 
guess.  Because  he  belongs  to  the  party  of  Liberals. 
That's  why,  and  nothing  else.  But  they  don't  say  so.  I've 
something  more  to  tell  you.  Would  you  believe  it,  Luisita, 
that  they  accuse  him  of  being  a  salteador?  " 

"  I  can  believe  him  accused  of  it — some  of  those  in 
power  now  are  wicked  enough  for  anything — but  not 
guilty.  You  remember  we  were  acquainted  with  Don 
Ruperto,  before  that  sad  time  when  we  were  compelled  to 
leave  the  country.  I  should  say  he  would  be  the  last  man 
to  stain  his  character  by  becoming  a  robber." 

"  The  very  last  man !  Robber  indeed  !  My  noble 
Ruperto  the  purest  of  patriots,  purer  than  any  in  this  de- 
generate land.  Ay-de-mi  !  " 

"  Where  did  they  take  him,  and  when  ?  " 

"  Somewhere  near  San  Augustin,  and  I  think,  several 
days  ago,  though  I've  only  just  heard  of  it" 

"  Strange  that.  As  you  know,  I've  been  staying  at  San 
Augustin  for  the  last  week  or  more  ;  and  there  was  no  word 
of  such  a  thing  there." 

"  Not  likely  there  would  be ;  it  was  all  done  quietly. 
Don  Ruperto  has  been  living  out  that  way  up  in  the 
mountains,  hiding,  if  you  choose  to  call  it.  I  know  where, 
but  no  matter.  Too  brave  to  be  cautious  he  had  come 
down  to  San  Augustin.  Some  one  betrayed  him,  and 
going  back  he  was  waylaid  by  the  soldiers,  surrounded, 
and  made  prisoner.  There  must  have  been  a  whole  host 
of  them,  else  they'd  never  have  taken  him  so  easily.  I'm 
sure  they  wouldn't  and  couldn't." 
.  "And  where  is  he  now,  Ysabel ? * 

0 


8  2  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

"  In  prison,  as  I've  told  you." 

w  But  what  prison  ?  " 

"  That's  just  what  I'm  longing  to  know.  All  I've  yet 
heard  is  that  he's  in  a  prison  under  the  accusation  of  being 
a  highwayman.  Santissima  !  "  she  added,  angrily  stamp- 
ing her  tiny  foot  on  the  tesselated  flags.  "  They  who 
accuse  him  shall  rue  it.  He  shall  be  revenged  "on  them. 
I'll  see  justice  done  him  myself.  Ah !  that  will  I,  though 
it  costs  me  all  I'm  worth.  Only  to  think — Ruperto  a 
robber !  My  Ruperto  !  Valga  me  Dios  !  " 

By  this,  the  two  had  mounted  up  into  the  mirador — the 
Senorita  Valverde  having  come  down  to  receive  her  visitor. 
And  there,  the  first  flurry  of  excitement  over,  they  talked 
more  tranquilly,  or  at  all  events,  more  intelligibly  of  the 
affairs  mutually  affecting  them.  In  those  there  was  much 
similarity,  indeed,  in  many  respects  a  parallelism.  Yet 
the  feelings  with  which  they  regarded  them  were  dia- 
metrically opposite.  One  knew  that  her  lover  was  in 
prison,  and  grieved  at  it ;  the  other  hoped  hers  might  be 
the  same,  and  would  have  been  glad  of  it ! 

A  strange  dissimilitude  of  which  the  reader  has  the  key. 

Beyond  what  she  had  already  said,  the  Condesa  had 
little  more  to  communicate,  and  in  her  turn  became  the 
questioner. 

"  I  can  understand  now,  amiga  mia,  why  you  spoke  of 
Don  Florencio.  The  Tejano  prisoners  have  arrived,  and 
you  are  thinking  he's  amongst  them  ?  That's  so,  is  it 
not?" 

"  Not  thinking,  but  hoping  it,  Ysabel." 

"  Have  you  taken  any  steps  to  ascertain  ? " 

"  I  have." 

"In  what  way  ?  " 

"  I've  sent  a  messenger  to  Tacubaya,  where  I'm  told 
they've  been  taken." 


A   MUTUAL    MISAPPREHENSION.  $3 

"Not  all.  Some  of  them  have  been  sent  elsewhere. 
One  party,  I  believe,  is  shut  up  in  the  Acordada." 

"  What !  in  that  fearful  place  ?  among  those  horrid 
wretches- — the  worst  criminals  we  have  !  The  Tejans  are 
soldiers — prisoners  of  war.  Surely  they  do  not  deserve 
such  treatment  ? " 

"  Deserve  it  or  not,  some  of  them  are  receiving  it.  That 
grand  gentleman,  Colonel  Carlos  Santander — your  friend 
by  the  way — told  me  so." 

The  mention  of  Santander's  name,  but  more  a  con- 
nection with  the  subject  spoken  of,  produced  a  visible 
effect  on  Luisa  Valverde.  Her  cheek  seemed  to  pale  and 
suddenly  flashed  red  again.  Well  she  remembered,  and 
vividly  recalled,  the  old  enmity  between  him  and  Don 
Florencio.  Too  well,  and  a  circumstance  of  most  sinister 
recollection  as  matters  stood  now.  She  had  thought  of  it 
before ;  was  thinking  of  it  all  the  time,  and  therefore  the 
words  of  the  Condesa  started  no  new  train  of  reflection. 
They  but  intensified  the  fear  she  had  already  felt,  for  a 
time  holding  her  speechless. 

Not  noticing  this,  and  without  waiting  a  rejoinder,  the 
other  ran  on,  still  interrogating  : 

"  Whom  have  you  trusted  with  this  delicate  mission,  may 
I  ask  ? " 

"  Only  JoseV' 

"  Well ;  Jose*,  from  what  I've  seen  of  him,  is  worthy  of 
the  trust.  That  is  so  far  as  honesty  is  concerned,  and 
possibly  cleverness.  But,  amiga  miay  he's  only  a  humble 
servitor,  and  out  there  in  Tacubaya,  among  the  garrison 
soldiers,  or  if  it  be  in  any  of  the  prisons,  he  may  experience 
a  little  difficulty  in  obtaining  the  information  you  seek. 
Did  you  give  him  any  money  to  make  matters  *asy  ?  " 

"  He  has  my  purse  with  him,  with  permission  to  use  it 
as  he  may  see  best." 


84  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

"  Ah !  then  you  may  safely  expect  his  bringing  back  a 
good  account,  or  at  all  events  one  that  will  settle  the 
question  you  wish  to  have  settled.  Your  purse  should  be 
a  key  to  Don  Florencio's  prison — if  he  be  inside  one  any- 
where in  Mexico." 

"  Oh  !  I  hope  he  is." 

"  Wishing  your  amantt  in  a  prison !  That  would  sound 
strange  enough,  if  one  didn't  understand  it." 

"I'd  give  anything  to  know  him  there — all  I  have  to  be 
assured  he  still  lives." 

"  Likely  enough  you'll  soon  hear.  When  do  you  expect 
your  messenger  to  be  back  ? " 

"At  any  moment.  He's  been  gone  many  hours  ago. 
I  was  watching  for  him  when  you  came  up — yonder  on 
the  Tacubaya  Road.  I  see  nothing  of  him  yet,  but  he 
may  have  passed  while  we've  been  talking." 

"  Muy  amiga  mia  /  How  much  our  doings  this  day 
have  been  alike.  I,  too,  have  despatched  a  messenger  to 
find  out  all  about  Ruperto,  and  am  now  awaiting  his  re- 
turn. I  ran  across  to  tell  you  of  it.  And  now  that  we're 
together  let  us  stay  till  we  know  the  worst  or  the  best. 
God  help  us  both ;  for,  to  make  use  of  the  phrase  I've 
heard  among  marineros,  we're  '  both  in  the  same  boat.' 
What  is  this  ? "  she  added,  stooping,  and  taking  up  the 
guilded  card  which  had  been  all  the  while  lying  upon  the 
floor.  "  Oh,  indeed  !  Invitation  to  an  airing  in  one  of 
the  State  carriages — with  such  a  pretty  compliment  ap- 
pended !  How  free  El  Excellentissimo  is  with  his  flattery. 
For  myself  I  detest  both  him  and  it  You'll  go,  won't 
you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  wish  it." 

"  No  matter  about  wishing ;  I  want  you.  And  so  will 
your  father,  I'm  sure." 

M  But  why  do  you  want  me  ?  w 


A   MUTUAL   MISAPPREHENSION.  85 

"  Why,  so  that  you  may  take  me  with  you." 

"  I  would  rather  wait  till  I  hear  what  father  says." 

**  That's  all  I  ask,  amiga.     I  shall  be  contented  with  his 

dictum,  now  feeling  sure " 

Slie  was  interrupted  by  the  pattering  of  feet  upon  the 
stoL*  stairway  ;  two  pairs  of  them,  which  told  that  two 
individuals  were  ascending.  The  heavy  tread  proclaimed 
them  to  be  men.  Presently  their  faces  showed  over  the 
baluster  rail,  and  another  step  brought  them  upon  the  roof. 
Both  ladies  regarding  them  with  looks  of  eager  inquiry, 
glided  down  out  of  the  mirador  to  meet  them. 

For  they  were  the  two  messengers  that  had  been  des- 
patched separately,  though  on  errands  so  very  similar. 

Returning,  they  had  met  by  the  front  door,  and  entered 
the  house  together.  Each  having  had  orders  to  deliver 
his  report,  and  without  delay,  was  now  acting  in  obedience 
to  them. 

Two  and  two  they  stood  upon  the  azotea, — the  men,  hat 
in  hand,  stood  in  front  of  their  respective  mistresses ;  not 
so  far  apart,  but  that  each  mistress  might  have  heard  what 
the  servant  of  the  other  said  ;  for  on  their  part  there  was 
no  wish  or  reason  for  concealment. 

"  Senorita,"  reported  Jose",  "  the  gentleman  you  sent  me 
to  inquire  about  is  not  in  Tacubaya." 

Almost  a  cry  came  from  Luisa  Valverde's  lips  as  with 
paled  cheek,  she  said, — 

"  You've  not  heard  of  him,  then  ?  " 
But  the  colour  quickly  returned  at  the  answer,— 
"  I  have,  Senorita  ;  more,  I  have  seen  him." 
"  Seen  Don  Florencio  !     Where  ?     Speak,  quick,  Jose* !  " 
"In  the  Acordada!" 

"  In  the  Acordada !  "  in  still  another  voice — that  of  the 

Condesa  speaking  in  a  similar  tone,  as  though  it  were  an 

she,  too,  had  just  been  told  that  her  lover  was  in 


86  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

"  I  saw  him  in  a  cell,  my  lady,"  continued  the  Countess's 
man,  now  taking  precedence.  "  They  had  him  coupled  to 
another  prisoner — a  Tejano." 

"  He  was  in  one  of  the  cells,  Senorita"  spoke  Jose*,  also 
continuing  his  report,  chained  to  a  robber." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 
FOR  LAS  ZANCAS. 

IN  all  cities  there  is  a  street  favoured  by  fashion.  This  In 
Mexico  is  the  Calle  de  Plateros  (street  of  the  silversmiths), 
so  called  because  there  the  workers  in  precious  metals 
and  dealers  in  bijouterie  "  most  do  congregate." 

In  this  street  the  jovenes  dorados  (gilded  youth)  of 
modern  Tenochtitlan  strolled  in  tight-fitting  patent  leather 
boots,  canary-coloured  kid  gloves,  cane  in  hand,  and 
quizzing-glass  to  the  eye.  There>  too,  the  senoras  and 
senoritas  go  shopping  bareheaded,  with  but  the  shawl 
thrown  over  the  crown  hood-fashion. 

When  out  only  for  promenade,  none  of  these  linger  long 
in  the  street  of  the  silversmiths.  They  but  pass  through 
it  on  their  way  to  the  Alameda>  a  sort  of  half-park,  half- 
garden,  devoted  to  the  public  use,  and  tastefully  laid  out 
in  walks,  terraces,  and  parterres  with  flowers,  and  fountains  ; 
grand  old  evergreen  trees  overshadowing  all.  For  in  that 
summery  clime  shade,  not  sun,  is  the  desideratum.  Here 
the  jovenes  dorados  spent  part  of  the  afternoons  sauntering 
along  the  arcaded  walks,  or  seated  around  the  great 
fountain  watching  the  play  of  its  crystal  waters.  But 
with  an  eye  to  something  besides — the  senoritas,  who 
are  there,  too,  flirting  the  fans  with  a  dexterity  which 
speaks  of  much  practice — speaks  of  something  more. 
Not  every  movement  made  by  these  rustling  segments 
of  circles  is  intended  to  create  currents  of  air  and  cool 
the  heated  skin.  Many  a  twist  and  turn,  watched  with 

IT 


88  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

anxious  eyes,  conveys  intelligence  interesting  as  words 
never  spoken.  In  Mexico  many  a  love  tale  is  told,  passion 
declared,  jealous  pang  caused  or  alleviated,  by  the  mute 
languages  of  fans  and  fingers. 

Though  the  Calle  de  Plateros  termina4.es  at  the  gate  of  the 
Alameda,  the  same  line  of  street  is  continued  half  a  mile 
further  on,  to  the  fashionable  drive  of  the  Pasco  Nueio> 
sometimes  called  Pasco  de  Buccareli,  from  the  Viceroy 
who  ruled  New  Spain  when  it  was  laid  out.  It  is  the 
Rotten  Row  of  Mexico,  for  it  is  a  ride  as  well  as  a  drive  ; 
and  at  a  certain  hour  of  the  afternoon  a  stream  of  carriages, 
with  strings  of  horsemen,  may  be  seen  tending  towards  it, 
the  carriages  drawn,  some  of  them  by  mules,  others  by 
the  small  native  horses,  and  a  distinguished  few  by  large 
English  or  American  animals,  there  known  as  frisones. 
It  is  the  top  thing  to  have  a  pair  of  "frisones." 

In  the  carriages,  the  senoras.  and  senoritas  are  seen 
attired  in  their  richest  robes — full  evening  dress — bare- 
armed  and  bare-headed,  their  hair,  usually  black,  ablaze 
with  jewels  or  entwined  with  flowers  fresh  picked-^the 
sweet-scented  suchil,  the  white  star-like  jasmine,  and 
crimson  grenadine.  Alongside  ride  the  cavaliers,  in  high- 
peaked,  stump-leather  saddles,  their  steeds  capering  and 
prancing ;  each  rider,  to  all  appearance,  requiring  the  full 
strength  of  his  arms  to  control  his  mount,  while  insidiously 
using  his  spurs  to  render  the  animal  uncontrollable.  The 
more  it  pitches  and  plunges  the  better  he  is  pleased,  pro- 
vided the  occupants  of  the  carriages  have  their  eyes  on  him. 

Every  day  in  the  year — except  during  the  week  of 
Guaresma  (Lent),  when  capricious  fashion  takes  him  to  the 
Paseo  Viejo,  or  Lav  Vigas,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
city — can  this  brilliant  procession  be  seen  moving  along 
the  Calle  de  Plateros,  and  its  continuation,  the  Calle  de 
Francisco. 


FOR    LAS   ZANCAS.  89 

But  in  this  same  thoroughfare  one  may  often  witness 
a  spectacle  less  resplendent,  with  groups  aught  but  gay. 
Midway  along  the  street  runs  a  deep  drain  or  sewer,  not 
as  in  European  cities  permanently  covered  up,  but  loosely 
flagged  over,  the  flags  removable  at  will.  This,  the  zanca, 
is  more  of  a  stagnant  sink  than  a  drainage  sewer ;  since 
from  the  city  to  the  outside  country  there  is  scarce  an  inch 
of  fall  to  carry  off  the  sewage.  As  a  consequence  it 
accumulates  in  the  zancas  till  they  are  brimming  full,  and 
with  a  stuff  indescribable.  Every  garbage  goes  there — all 
the  refuse  of  household  product  is  shot  into  them.  At 
periodical  intervals  they  are  cleared  out,  else  the  city 
would  soon  be  aflood  in  its  own  filth.  It  is  often  very 
near  it,  the  blue  black  liquid  seen  oozing  up  between  the 
flagstones  that  bridge  over  the  zancas,  filling  the  air  with 
a  stench  intolerable.  Every  recurring  revolution  make  the 
municipal  authorities  of  Mexico  careless  about  their  charge 
and  neglectful  of  their  duties.  But  when  the  scouring-out 
process  is  going  on,  the  sights  are  still  more  offensive,  and 
the  smells  too.  Then  the  flags  are  lifted  and  laid  on  one 
side — exposing  all  the  impurity — while  the  stuff  is  tossed  to 
the  other,  there  to  lie  festering  for  days,  or  until  dry  enough 
to  be  more  easily  removed.  For  all  it  does  not  stop  the 
circulation  of  the  carriages.  The  grand  dames  seated 
in  them  pass  on,  now  and  then  showing  a  slight  contortion 
in  their  pretty  noses.  But  they  would  not  miss  their  airing 
in  the  Paseo  were  it  twenty  times  worse — that  they 
wouldn't  To  them,  as  to  many  of  their  English  sister- 
hood in  Hyde  Park,  the  afternoon  drive  is  everything 
—to  some,  as  report  says,  even  more  than  meat  or  drink  ; 
since  they  deny  themselves  these  for  the  keeping  of  the 
carriage. 

It  may  be  imagined  that  the  scouring-out  of  the  zancas 
is  a  job  for  which  labourers  are  not  readily  obtained 


QO  THE    FREE  LANCES. 

Even  the  pelado  turns  up  his  nose  at  it,  and  the  poorest 
proletarian  will  only  undertake  the  task  when  starvation 
is  staring  him  in  the  face.  For  it  is  not  only  dirty,  but 
deemed  degrading.  It  is,  therefore,  one  of  the  trava^x- 
forces  which,  as  a  matter  of  necessity,  falls*  to  the  lot  of 
the  "  gaol-bird."  Convicts  are  the  scavengers  ;  criminals 
sentenced  to  long  periods  of  imprisonment,  of  whom  there 
are  often  enough  in  the  carceles  of  Mexico  to  clean  out  all 
the  sewers  in  the  country.  Even  by  these  it  is  a  task 
looked  upon  with  repugnance,  and  usually  assigned  to 
them  as  a  punishment  for  prison  derelictions.  Not  thuit 
they  so  much  regard  the  dirt  or  the  smells  ;  it  is  the  toil 
which  offends  them — the  labour  being  hard,  and  often 
requiring  to  be  done  under  a  hot,  broiling  sun. 

To  see  them  is  a  spectacle  of  a  rather  curious  kinJ, 
though  repulsive.  Coupled  two  and  two — for  the  prc- 
cation  is  taken,  and  not  unfrequently  needed — to  keep 
their  leg-chains  on ;  up  in  mud  to  the  middle  of  theii 
bodies,  and  above  bespattered  with  it — such  mud  too ! 
many  of  them  with  faces  that,  even  when  clean,  are  aught 
but  nice  to  look  at ;  their  eyes  now  flashing  fierce  defiance, 
now  bent  down  and  sullen,  they  seem  either  at  enmity  or 
out  of  sorts  with  all  mankind.  Some  among  them,  how- 
ever, make  light  of  it,  bandy  words  with  the  passers-by, 
jest,  taugh,  sing,  shout,  and  swear,  which  to  a  sensitive 
mind  but  makes  the  spectacle  more  sad. 

All  this  understood,  it  may  well  be  conceived  with  what 
anxiety  Florence  Kearney  listened  to  that  snatch  of 
dialogue  between  Satander  and  the  gaol  governor  outside 
the  cell.  He  did  not  even  then  quite  comprehend  the 
nature  of  what  was  intended  for  them.  But  the  sharer 
of  his  chain  did,  who  soon  after  made  it  all  known  to 
him,  he  passing  the  knowledge  on  to  Cris  Rock.  So 
when,  on  the  next  morning,  the  governor  again  presented 
himself  at  the  door  of  their  cell,  saying : 


FOR   LAS    ZANCAS.  9! 

"  Now,  gentlemen,  get  ready  to  take  a  little  exercise  "— 
they  knew  what  sort  of  exercise  was  meant. 

He,  however,  believing  them  ignorant  of  it — for  he  was 
not  aware  they  had  overheard  his  out-door  speech  with 
Santander,  addfcd  ironically  : 

"  It's  a  special  favour  I'm  going  to  give  you — at  the 
request  of  Senor  Colonel  Santander,  who,  as  I've  seen,  takes 
a  friendly  interest  in  some  of  you.  For  your  health's  sake, 
he  has  asked  me  to  give  you  a  turn  upon  the  streets, 
which  I  trust  you  will  enjoy  and  get  benefit  by." 

Don  Pedro  was  a  born  joker,  and  felt  conceit  in  his 
powers  as  a  satirist.  In  the  present  instance  his  irony 
was  shaftless,  being  understood. 

The  dwarf  was  the  only  one  who  deigned  rejoinder. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha ! "  he  yelled  in  his  wild  unearthly  way. 
"  Turn  upon  the  streets  !  That's  fine  for  you,  Don  Pedro. 
A  turn  under  the  streets — that's  what  you  mean,  isn't  it  ? " 

He  had  been  long  enough  in  the  gaol  governor's  charge 
to  know  the  latter's  name,  and  was  accustomed  to  address 
him  thus  familiarly.  The  deformed  creature  was  fearless 
from  his  very  deformity,  which  in  a  way  gave  him  protec- 
tion. 

"  Vayate  Zorillo"  returned  the  Governor,  slightly  put  out 
and  evidently  a  little  nettled,  "you're  too  fond  of  jesting 
—or  trying.  I'll  take  that  out  of  you,  and  I  mean  to  give 
you  a  lesson  in  good  manners  this  very  day/'  Then  fixing 
his  eyes  upon  Rivas,  he  added  :  "  Senor  L-on  Ruperto,  I 
should  be  only  too  happy  to  let  you  off  from  the  little 
excursion  your  prison  companions  are  about  to  make 
and  save  you  the  fatigue.  But  my  orders  are  rigorous. 
They  come  from  the  highest  quarter,  and  I  dare  not  dis- 
obey them." 

This  was  all  pure  irony,  intended  but  to  torment  him  ; 
at  least  so  the  robber  seemed  to  understand  it.  For,  instead 


92  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

of  accepting  it  in  a  friendly  sense,  he  turned  savagely  on 
his  tormentor,  hissing  out : 

"  I  know  you  daren't  disobey  them,  dog  that  you  are ! 
Only  such  as  you  would  be  governor  of  a  gaol  like  this : 
you,  who  turned  coat  and  disgraced  the  ^word  you  wore 
at  Zacatecas.  Do  your  worst,  Don  Pedro  Arias  !  I  defy 
you." 

"  Cascaras !  how  swelling  big  you  talk,  Sefior  Captain 
Rivas !  Ah  !  well.  I'll  let  a  little  of  the  wind  out  of  you 
too,  before  you  bid  good-bye  to  the  Acordada.  Even  the 
Condesa,  grand  dame  though  she  is,  won't  be  able  to  get 
you  clear  of  my  clutches  so  easy  as  you  may  be  thinking. 
La  Garrota  is  the  lady  likeliest  to  do  that." 

After  thus  spitefully  delivering  himself,  he  called  to 
some  prison  warders  in  waiting  in  the  court  outside,  and 
commanded  them  to  come  up  to  him. 

"  Here,"  he  directed,  "  take  these  two  pairs  and  hand 
them  over  to  the  guard  at  the  gate.  You  know  what 
for,  Dominguez  ?  "  The  half  interrogatory  was  addressed 
to  a  big,  hulking  felloiv,  chief  of  the  turnkeys,  who  looked 
all  Acordada. 

"  For  cierto,  Sefior  Gobernador?  he  rejoined  with  a 
significant  look,  after  giving  the  prison  salute  *o  IMS 
superior.  "  I  know  all  about  it" 

"  See,  moreover,  that  they  be  kept  all  day  at  it ;  that's 
my  orders." 

"  Sure  will  I,  Sefior,"  was  the  compliant  rejoinder. 

After  which  the  man  twitted  with  turning  his  coat, 
turned  his  back  upon  the  place  where  he  had  been  so 
ungraciously  received,  going  off  to  more  agreeable  quarters. 

"  Now,  gentlemen  !  "  said  the  gaoler,  stepping  up  to  the 
door  of  the  cell,  "  For  las  zancas  /  " 


CHAPTER  XV1U. 
TYRANT  AND  TOOL. 

EL  Excellentissimo  Illustrissimo  General  Don  Jost  Antonw 
Lopez  de  Santa  Anna. 

Such  the  twice  sesquipedalian  name  and  title  of  him 
who  at  this  time  wielded  the  destinies  of  Mexico.  For 
more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century  this  man  had  been  the 
curse  of  the  young  Republic — its  direst,  deadliest  bane. 
For  although  his  rule  was  not  continuous,  its  evil  effects 
were.  Unfortunately,  the  demoralisation  brought  about 
by  despotism  extends  beyond  the  reign  or  life  of  the 
despot ;  and  Santa  Anna  had  so  debased  the  Mexican 
people,  both  socially  and  politically,  as  to  render  them  un- 
fitted for  almost  any  form  of  constitutional  government 
They  had  become  incapable  of  distinguishing  between  the 
friends  of  freedom  and  its  foes  ;  and  in  the  intervals  of 
Liberal  administration,  because  the  Millennium  did  not 
immediately  show  itself,  and  make  all  rich,  prosperous,  and 
happy,  they  leaped  to  the  conclusion  that  its  failure  was 
due  to  the  existing  regime,  making  no  account  or  allow- 
ance for  the  still  uncicatrised  wounds  of  the  body  politic 
being  the  work  of  his  wicked  predecessor. 

This  ignorance  of  political  cause  and  effect  is,  alas !  not 
alone  confined  to  Mexico.  There  is  enough  of  it  in  Eng- 
land, too,  as  in  every  other  nation.  But  in  the  earlier  days 
of  the  Mexican  Republic,  the  baneful  weed  flourished  with 
unusual  vigour  and  rankness — to  the  benefit  of  Antonio 
Lopez  de  Santa  Anna,  and  the  blight  of  his  country,  De- 

93 


94  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

posed  and  banished  so  many  times  that  their  number  fa 
not  easily  remembered,  he  was  ever  brought  back  again — 
to  the  wonder  of  people  then,  and  the  puzzle  of  historians 
yet.  The  explanation,  however,  is  simple  enough.  He 
reigned  through  corruption  that  he  had  himself  been  in- 
ftrumental  in  creating;  through  militarism  and  an  abomin- 
able Chauvinism — this  last  as  effective  an  instrument  as 
the  oppressor  can  wield.  Divide  et  impera  is  a  maxim  of 
despotic  state-craft,  old  as  despotism  itself ;  "  flatter  and 
rule  "  is  a  method  equally  sure,  and  such  Santa  Anna  prac- 
tised to  its  full.  He  let  pass  no  opportunity  of  flattering 
the  national  vanity,  which  brought  the  Mexican  nation  to 
shame,  with  much  humiliation — as  the  French  at  a  later 
period,  and  as  it  must  every  people  that  aims  at  no  higher 
standard  of  honour  than  what  may  be  derived  from  self- 
adulation. 

At  the  time  I  am  writing  of,  the  chief  of  the  Mexican 
Republic  was  aiming  at  "  Imperium  " — eagerly  straining 
for  it.  Its  substance  he  already  had,  the  "Libertas"  having 
been  long  since  eliminated  from  his  system  of  government, 
and  trodden  under  foot.  But  the  title  he  had  not  acquired 
yet.  He  yearned  to  wear  the  purple,  and  be  styled  "  Im- 
perador,"  and  in  order  to  prepare  his  subjects  for  the  change, 
already  kept  a  sort  of  Imperial  court,  surrounding  it  with 
grand  ceremonials.  As  a  matter  of  course,  these  partook 
of  a  military  character,  being  himself  not  only  political 
head  of  the  State,  but  commander-in-chief  of  its  armies 
As  a  consequence,  Palacio,  his  official  residence  was  beset 
with  soldier  guards,  officers  in  gorgeous  uniforms  loitering 
about  the  gates,  or  going  out  and  in,  and  in  th^  Plaza 
Grande  at  all  times  exhibiting  the  spectacle  of  a  veritable 
Champ  de  Mars.  No  one  passing  through  the  Mexican 
metropolis  at  this  period  would  have  supposed  it  the  chief 
city  of  a  Republic. 


TYRANT  AND  TOOL.  95 

On  that  same  day  in  which  Carlos  Santander  had  shown 
himself  at  the  Acordada,  only  at  an  early  hour,  the  would- 
be  Emperor  was  seated  in  his  apartment  of  the  palace  in 
which  he  was  wont  to  give  audience  to  ordinary  visitors. 
He  had  got  through  the  business  affairs  of  the  morning, 
dismissed  his  Ministers,  and  was  alone,  when  one  of  the 
aides-de-camp  in  attendance  entered  with  a  card,  and  re- 
spectfully saluting  him,  laid  it  on  the  table  before  him. 

"  Yes  ;  say  I  can  see  him.  Tell  him  to  come  in,"  he 
directed,  soon  as  reading  the  name  on  the  card. 

In  the  door,  on  its  second  opening,  appeared  Carlos 
Santander,  in  the  uniform  of  a  colonel  of  Hussars,  gold 
bedizened,  and  laced  from  collar  to  cuffs. 

"Ah  !  Senor  Don  Carlos!  "  exclaimed  the  Dictator  in  a 
joyous,  jocular  way,  "  what's  your  affair  ?  Coming  to  tell 
me  of  some  fresh  conquest  you've  made  among  the  mucha- 
chas  ?  From  your  cheerful  countenance  I  should  say  it's 
that." 

"  Excellentissimo ! " 

"  Oh !  you  needn't  deny,  or  look  so  demure  about  it. 
Well,  you're  a  lucky  fellow  to  be  the  lady  killer  I've  heard 
say  you  are.'1 

"  Your  Excellency,  that's  only  say-say  ;  I  ought  rather 
to  call  it  slander.  I've  no  ambition  to  be  thought  such  a 
character.  Quite  the  reverse,  I  assure  you." 

"  If  you  could  assure  me,  but  you  can't.  I've  had  you 
long  enough  under  my  eye  to  know  better.  Haven't  I  ob- 
served your  little  flirtations  with  quite  half  a  score  of  our 
seftoritas,  among  them  a  very  charming  young  lady  you 
met  in  Louisiana,  if  I  mistake  not  ?  " 

Saying  this,  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  Santander's  face  in  a 
searching,  interrogative  way,  as  though  he  himself  felt  more 
than  a  common  interest  in  the  charming  young  lady  who 
had  been  met  in  Louisiana 


96  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

Avoiding  his  glance,  as  evading  the  question,  the  other 
rejoined, — 

"  It  is  very  good  of  your  Excellency  to  take  such  interest 
in  me,  and  I'm  grateful.  But  I  protest " 

"  Come,  come  !  amigo  mio  !  No  protestations.  'Twould 
only  be  adding  perjury  to  profligacy.  .  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  " 

And  the  grand  dignitary  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  laugh- 
ing. For  it  was  but  badinage,  and  he  in  no  way  intended 
lecturing  the  staff-colonel  on  his  morality,  nor  rebuking 
him  for  any  backslidings.  Instead,  what  came  after  could 
but  encourage  him  in  such  wise,  his  chief  continuing, — 

"Yes,  Senor  Don  Carlos,  I'm  aware  of  your  amourettes, 
for  which  I'm  not  the  man  to  be  hard  upon  you.  In  that 
regard,  I  myself  get  the  credit — so  rumour  says — of  living 
in  a  glass  house,  so  I  cannot  safely  throw  stones.  Ha, 
ha ! " 

The  tone  of  his  laugh,  with  his  self-satisfied  look,  told 
of  his  being  aught  but  angry  with  rumour  for  so  represent- 
ing him. 

a  Well,.Excellentissimo,"  here  put  in  the  subordinate,  "it 
don't  much  signify  what  the  world  says,  so  long  as  one's 
conscience  is  clear." 

"  Bravo-bravissimo  / "  exclaimed  the  Most  Excellent. 
"  Ha,  ha,  ha  ! "  he  continued,  in  still  louder  cachinnation. 
"  Carlos  Santander  turned  moralist !  And  moralizing  to 
me !  It's  enough  to  make  a  horse  laugh.  Ha,  ha,  ha !  " 

The  staff-colonel  appeared  somewhat  disconcerted,  not 
knowing  to  what  all  this  might  be  tending.  However,  he 
ventured  to  remark, — 

"  I  am  glad  to  find  your  Excellency  in  such  good  hu- 
mour this  morning." 

"  Ah  !  that's  because  you've  come  to  ask  some  favour 
from  me,  I  suppose."  Santa  Anna  had  a  habit  of  inter- 
larding his  most  familiar  and  friendly  discourse  with  a  little 


TYRANT   AND   TOOL*  97 

satire,  sometimes  very  disagreeable  to  those  he  conversed 
with.  "  But  never  mind,"  he  rattled  on,  "  though  I  confess 
some  surprise  at  your  hypocrisy,  which  is  all  thrown  away 
upon  me,  amigo !  I  don't  at  all  wonder  at  your  success 
with  the  seftoritas.  You're  a  handsome  fellow,  Don  Car- 
los ;  and  if  it  weren't  for  that  scar  on  your  cheek By 

the  way,  you  never  told  me  how  you  came  by  it.  You 
hadn't  it  when  you  were  last  with  us." 

The  red  flushed  into  Santander's  face,  and  up  over  his 
forehead  to  the  roots  of  his  hair.  He  had  told  no  one  in 
Mexico,  nor  anywhere  else,  how  he  came  by  that  ugly  thing 
on  his  jaw,  which  beard  could  not  conceal,  and  which  he 
felt  as  a  brand  of  Cain. 

"  It's  a  scar  of  a  sword-cut,  your  Excellency.  I  got  it  in 
a  duel." 

4<  Ah  !     An  honourable  wound,  then.     But  where  ?  M 

"  In  New  Orleans." 

"  Just  the  place  for  that  sort  of  thing,  as  I  know,  having 
been  there  myself."  (Santa  Anna  had  made  a  tour  of  the 
States,  on  parole,  after  the  battle  of  San  Jacinto,  where  he 
was  taken  prisoner.)  "  A  very  den  of  duellists  is  Nuevo 
Orleans  ;  many  of  them  maitres  cThcrime.  But  who  was 
your  antagonist  ?  I  hope  you  gave  him  as  good  as  you 
got." 

"  I  did,  your  Excellency  ;  that,  and  mo»e.M 

"You  killed  him?" 

"  Not  quite.  I  would  have  done  so,  but  that  my  second 
interposed,  and  persuaded  me  to  let  him  off." 

"  Well,  he  hasn't  let  you  off,  anyhow.  What  was  the 
quarrel  about  ?  Carrai  J  I  needn't  ask  ;  the  old  orthodox 
cause — a  lady,  of  course  ?  " 

"  Nay ;  for  once  your  Excellency  is  in  error.  Our 
desajio  originated  in  something  quite  different." 

"  What  thing  ? " 

H 


98  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

"  An  endeavour  on  my  part  to  do  a  service  to  Mexico 
and  its  honoured  ruler." 

"  Oh,  indeed  !     In  what  way,  Sefior  Colonel  ?  " 

"That  band  of  filibusters,  of  which,  as  your  Excellency 
will  remember " 

"  Yes — yes,"  interrupted  Santa  Anna  impatiently.  He 
evidently  knew  all  about  that,  and  preferred  hearing  no 
more  of  it.  "It  was  one  of  the  filibuster os  you  fought 
with,  I  suppose  ?  n 

"  Yes,  Excellentissimo ;  the  one  they  chose  for  their 
captain." 

"  You  were  angry  at  his  being  preferred  to  yourself,  and 
so  called  him  out  ?  Well,  that  was  cause  enough  to  a  man 
of  your  mettle.  But  what  became  of  him  afterwards? 
Was  he  among  those  at  Mier  ?  " 

"  He  was/' 

«  Killed  there  ?  " 

"  No,  your  Excellency ;  only  taken  prisoner.* 

"  Shot  at  Solado  ?  " 

"  Neither  that,  Excellentissimo." 

"  Then  he  must  be  here  ? " 

"  He  is  here,  your  Excellency." 

« What's  his  name?" 

"  Kearney — Florence  Kearney,  un  Irlandes? 

A  peculiar  expression  came  over  Santa  Anna's  features, 
a  sort  of  knowing  look,  as  much  as  to  say  the  name  was  not 
new  to  him.  Nor  was  it.  That  very  morning,  only  an  hour 
before,  Don  Ignacio  Valverde  had  audience  of  him  on  a  mat- 
ter relating  to  this  same  man — Florence  Kearney ;  in  short, 
to  obtain  clemency  for  the  young  Irishman — full  pardon,  if 
possible.  But  the  Minister  had  been  dismissed  with  only 
vague  promises.  His  influence  at  court  was  still  not  very 
great,  and  about  the  motive  for  his  application — as  also  who 
it  originated  from — Santa  Anna  had  conceived  suspicions. 


TYRANT  AND  TOOL.  99 

Of  all  this  he  said  nothing  to  the  man  before  him  now, 
simply  inquiring, — 

"Is  the  Irlandes  at  Tacubaya  ? " 

"  No,  your  Excellency  ;  he's  in  the  Acordada." 

"  Since  you  had  the  disposal  of  the  Tejano  prisoners,  I 
can  understand  that,"  returned  the  Dictator,  with  a  signi- 
ficant shrug.  "  It's  about  him,  then,  you're  here,  I  suppose. 
Well,  what  do  you  want  ? " 

"  Your  authority,  Excellentissimo,  to  punish  him  as  he 
deserves." 

"For  making  that  tracing  on  your  cheek,  eh?  You 
repent  not  having  punished  him  more  at  the  time  when 
you  yourself  had  the  power  ?  Isn't  it  so,  Seilor  Colonel  ?  " 

Santander's  face  reddened,  as  he  made  reply, — 

"  Not  altogether,  your  Excellency.  There's  something 
besides,  for  which  he  deserves  to  be  treated  differently  from 
the  others." 

Santa  Anna  Could  have  given  a  close  guess  at  what  the 
exceptional  something  was.  To  his  subtle  perception  a 
little  love  drama  was  gradually  being  disclosed  ;  but  he 
kept  his  thoughts  to  himself,  with  his  eyes  still  searchingly 
fixed  on  Santander's  face. 

"  This  Kearney,"  continued  the  latter,  "  though  an  Irish- 
man, is  one  of  Mexico's  bitterest  enemies,  and  especially 
bitter  against  your  Excellency.  In  a  speech  he  made  to 
the  filibiisteros,  he  called  you  a  usurper,  tyrant,  traitor  to 
liberty  and  your  country — ay,  even  coward.  Pardon  me 
for  repeating  the  vile  epithets  he  made  use  of." 

Santa  Anna's  eyes  now  scintillated  with  a  lurid  sinister 
light,  as  if  filled  with  fire,  ready  to  blaze  out.  In  the 
American  newspapers  he  had  often  seen  his  name  coupled 
with  such  opprobrious  phrases,  but  never  without  feeling 
savagely  wrathful.  And  not  the  less  that  his  own  innate 
consciousness  told  him  it  was  all  as  said. 


TOO  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

"  Chingara  /  w  he  hissed  out,  for  he  was  not  above  usin£ 
this  vulgar  exclamation.  "  If  it  is  true  what  you  say,  Don 
Carlos,  as  I  presume  it  is,  you  can  do  as  you  like  with  this 
dog  of  an  Irlandes  t  have  him  shot,  or  have  him  despatched 
by  La  Garrota,  which  ever  seems  best  to  you.  But  no- 
stay  !  That  won't  do  yet.  There's  a  question  about  these 
Tejanos  with  the  United  States  Minister ;  and  as  this 
Kearney  is  an  Irishman,  and  so  a  British  subject,  the  re- 
presentative of  that  country  may  make  trouble  too.  So 
till  all  this  is  settled,  the  Irlandes  mustn't  be  either  shot 
or  garrotted.  Instead,  let  him  be  treated  tenderly.  You 
comprehend  ?  " 

The  staff- colonel  did  comprehend ;  the  emphasis  on  the 
"tenderly"  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  mistake  the  Dic- 
tator's meaning,  which  was  just  as  he  desired  it  As  he 
passed  out  of  the  presence,  and  from  the  room,  his  coun- 
tenance was  lit  up,  or  rather  darkened,  by  an  expression  of 
fiendish  triumph.  He  now  had  it  in  his  power  to  humiliate 
them  who  had  so  humbled  him. 

"  Quite  a  little  comedy !  "  soliloquised  Santa  Anna,  as 
the  door  closed  on  his  subordinate,  "  in  which,  before  it's 
played  out,  I  may  myself  take  a  part.  She's  a  charming 
creature,  this  Senorita  Valverde.  But,  ah  !  nothing  to  the 
Condesa.  That  woman — witch,  devil,  or  whatever  I  may 
call  her — bids  fair  to  do  what  woman  never  did — make  a 
fool  of  Lopez  de  Santa  Anna," 


CHAPTER  XIX. 
A  WOODEN-LEGGED  LOTHARIO. 

FOR  some  time  the  Dictator  remained  in  his  seat  light- 
ing cigarrito  after  cigarrito,  and  puffing  away  at  them 
furiously.  The  look  of  light  frivolity  had  forsaken  his 
face,  which  was  now  overcast  with  gloom. 

At  this  time,  as  said,  he  wielded  supreme  unlimited 
power  over  the  Mexican  people — even  to  life  and  death. 
For  although  he  might  not  recklessly  or  openly  decree 
this,  he  could  bring  it  about  secretly — by  means  which,  if 
rumour  spoke  true,  he  had  more  than  once  made  use  of. 
Indeed,  there  stood  against  his  name  more  than  one  well- 
confirmed  record  of  assassination. 

Thought  of  this  may  have  had  something  to  do  with  the 
cloud  that  had  come  over  his  features ;  though  not  for  any 
qualms  of  conscience  for  the  murders  he  may  have  com- 
mitted or  hired  others  to  commit.  More  likely  a  fear  that 
he  himself  might  some  day  meet  a  similar  fate;  like  all 
despots  he  dreaded  the  steel  of  the  assassin.  By  his 
corrupt  administration,  he  had  encouraged  bravoism  till 
it  had  become  a  dangerous  element  in  the  social  life  of  his 
country — almost  an  institution — and  it  was  but  natural  he 
should  fear  the  bravo's  blade  turned  against  himself. 

Another  apprehension  may  at  this  time  have  been 
troubling  him.  Although  to  all  appearance  secure  in  the 
dictatorial  chair,  with  a  likelihood  of  his  soon  converting 
it  into  a  real  throne,  he  had  his  misgivings  about  this 

security.     By  imprisonments,  executions,  banishments,  and 

101 


LANCES. 


confiscations,  he  had  done  all  in  his  power  to  annihilate 
the  Liberal  party.  But  though  crushed  and  feeble  now,  its 
strength  was  but  in  abeyance,  its  spirit  still  lived,  and 
might  again  successfully  assert  itself.  No  man  knew  this 
better  than  he  himself;  and  no  better  teacher  could  he 
have  had  than  his  own  life's  history,  with  its  alternating 
chapters  of  triumph  and  defeat.  Even  then  there  was 
report  of  a  pronunciamento  in  one  of  the  northern  cities  of 
the  Republic  —  the  State,  by  a  polite  euphemism,  being 
still  so  designated.  Only  a  faint  "gritto"  it  was,  but  with 
a  tone  that  resembled  the  rumbling  of  distant  thunder, 
which  might  yet  be  heard  louder  and  nearer. 

Little,  however,  of  matters  either  revolutionary  or 
political  was  he  thinking  now.  The  subject  uppermost 
in  his  mind  was  that  latent  on  his  lips  —  woman.  Not  in 
a  general  way,  but  with  thoughts  specially  bent  upon  one 
of  them,  or  both,  with  whose  names  he  had  just  been 
making  free.  As  his  soliloquy  told,  a  certain  "  Condesa  " 
had  first  place  in  his  reflections,  she  being  no  other  than 
the  Condesa  Almonte*.  In  his  wicked  way  he  had  made 
love  to  this  young  lady,  as  to  many  others  ;  but,  unlike  as 
with  many  others,  he  had  met  repulse.  Firm,  though 
without  indignation,  his  advances  not  yet  having  gone  so 
far,  nor  been  so  bold,  as  to  call  for  this.  He  had  only 
commenced  skirmishing  with  her  ;  a  preliminary  stroke 
of  his  tactics  being  that  invitation  to  ride  in  the  State 
carnage  extended  to  Dona  Luisita  Valverde,  while  with- 
held from  the  Countess  —  an  astute  manoeuvre  on  his  part, 
and,  as  he  supposed,  likely  to  serve  him.  In  short,  the  old 
sinner  was  playing  the  old  game  of  "  piques."  Nor  did  he 
think  himself  so  ancient  as  to  despair  of  winning  at  it.  In 
such  contests  he  had  too  often  come  off  victorious,  and 
success  might  attend  upon  him  still.  Vain  was  he  of  his 
personal  appearance,  and  in  his  earlier  days  not  without 


A   WOODEN- LEGGED    LOTHARIO.  1 03 

some  show  of  reason.  In  his  youth  Santa  Anna  would 
claim  to  be  called,  if  not  handsome,  a  fairly  good-looking 
man.  Though  a  native  Mexican,  a  Vera-cruzano>  he  was 
of  pure  Spanish  race  and  good  blood — the  boasted  sangre 
azul.  His  features  were  well  formed,  oval,  and  slightly 
aquiline,  his  complexion  dark,  yet  clear,  his  hair  and 
moustaches  black,  lustrous,  and  profuse.  But  for  a  sinister 
cast  in  his  eyes,  not  always  observable,  his  countenance 
would  have  been  pleasing  enough.  As  it  was  he  prided 
himself  upon  it  even  now  that  he  was  well  up  in  years,  and 
his  hair  becoming  silvered.  As  for  the  moustaches,  black 
pomatum  kept  them  to  their  original  colour. 

One  thing  soured  him,  even  more  than  advancing  -age — 
his  wooden  leg.  'Tis  said  he  could  never  contemplate  that 
without  an  expression  of  pain  coming  over  his  features, 
as  though  there  was  gout  in  the  leg  itself  giving  him  a 
twinge.  And  many  the  time — nay,  hundreds  of  times — 
did  he  curse  Prince  de  Joinville.  For  it  was  in  defending 
Vera  Cruz  against  the  French,  commanded  by  the  latterf 
he  had  received  the  wound,  which  rendered  amputation  of 
the  limb  necessary.  In  a  way  he  ought  to  have  blessed 
the  Prince,  and  been  grateful  for  the  losing  of  it  rather 
than  otherwise.  Afterwards  the  mishap  stood  him  in  good 
stead  ;  at  election  times  when  he  was  candidate  fcr  the 
Chief  Magistracy  of  the  State.  Then  he  was  proud  to 
parade  the  artificial  limb ;  and  did  so  to  some  purpose. 
It  was,  indeed,  an  important  element  in  his  popularity,  and 
more  than  once  proved  an  effective  aid  to  his  reinstatement. 

With  a  grim  look,  however,  he  regarded  it  now.  For 
though  it  had  helped  him  politically,  he  was  not  thinking 
of  politics,  and  in  what  he  was  thinking  about  he  knew  it 
an  obstruction.  A  woman  to  love  a  man  with  a  wooden 
leg  1  And  such  a  woman  as  Ysabel  Almonte*  1  Not  that 
he  put  it  to  himself  in  that  way ;  far  from  it  He  had  still 


IO4  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

too  good  an  opinion,  if  not  of  his  personal  appearance,  at 
least  of  his  powers  otherwise,  and  he  even  then  felt  con- 
fident of  success.  For  he  had  just  succeeded  in  removing 
another  obstacle  which  seemed  likely  to  be  more  in  his 
way  than  the  wooden  leg.  He  had  but  late  come  to  know 
of  it ;  but  as  soon  as  knowing,  had  taken  measures  to  avert 
the  danger  dreaded — by  causing  the  imprisonment  of  a 
man.  For  it  was  a  man  he  feared,  or  suspected,  as  his 
competitor  for  the  affections  of  the  Condesa.  It  had  cost 
him  no  small  trouble  to  effect  this  individual's  arrest,  or 
rather  capture.  He  was  one  of  the  proscribed,  and  in 
hiding ;  though  heard  of  now  and  then  as  being  at  the 
head  of  a  band  of  salteadore — believed  to  have  turned 
highwayman. 

But  he  had  been  taken  at  length,  and  was  at  that 
moment  in  the  gaol  of  the  Acordada ;  which  Santa  Anna 
well  knew,  having  himself  ordered  his  incarceration  there, 
and  given  other  instructions  regarding  him  to  the  gaol 
governor,  who  was  one  of  his  creatures. 

After  sitting  for  some  time,  as  he  stretched  out  his  band, 
and  held  the  end  of  his  paper  cigar  to  the  red  coals  burn- 
ing in  a  brazero  on  the  table  before  him,  the  frown  upon 
bis  features  changed  to  a  demoniac  smile.  Possibly  from 
the  knowledge  that  this  man  was  now  in  his  power.  Sure 
was  he  of  this ;  but  what  would  he  not  have  given  to  be  as 
sure  of  her  being  so  too ! 

Whether  his  reflections  were  sweet  or  bitter,  or  which 
predominated,  he  was  not  permitted  longer  to  indulge  in 
them.  The  door  again  opening — after  a  tap  asking  per- 
mission to  enter — showed  the  same  aide-de-camp.  And 
on  a  similar  errand  as  before,  differing  only  in  that  now 
he  placed  two  cards  on  the  table  instead  of  one ;  the  cards 
themselves  being  somewhat  dissimilar  to  that  he  had 
already  brought  in. 


A  WOODEN-LEGGED   LOTHARIO.  IO5 

And  with  altogether  a  different  air  did  Santa  Anna  take 
them  up  for  examination.  He  was  enough  interested  at 
seeing  by  their  size  and  shape  that  those  now  desiring  an 
audience  of  him  were  ladies.  But  on  reading  the  names, 
his  interest  rose  to  agitation,  such  as  the  aide-de-camp 
never  before  had  seen  him  exhibit,  and  which  so  much 
astonished  the  young  officer  that  he  stood  staring  wonder- 
ingly,  if  not  rudely,  at  the  grand  dignitary,  his  chief.  His 
behaviour,  however,  was  not  noticed,  the  Dictator's  eyes 
being  all  upon  the  cards.  Only  for  an  instant  though 
If  he  gave  ready  reception  to  his  late  visitor,  still  readiel 
did  he  seem  desirous  of  according  it  to  those  now  seeking 
speech  with  him. 

"  Conduct  the  ladies  in,"  was  his  almost  instantaneous 
command,  as  quickly  retracted.  For  soon  as  spoken  he 
countermanded  it;  seemingly  from  some  afterthought 
which,  as  a  codicil,  had  suddenly  occurred  to  him.  Then 
followed  a  chapter  of  instructions  to  the  aide-de-camp, 
confidential,  and  to  the  effect  that  the  ladies  were  not 
to  be  immediately  introduced.  He  was  to  keep  them  in 
conversation  in  the  ante-chamber  outside,  till  he  should 
hear  the  bell. 

Judging  by  his  looks  as  he  went  out  the  young  subaltern 
was  more  th«n  satisfied  with  the  delay  thus  enjoined  upon 
him.  It  was  aught  but  a  disagreeable  duty ;  for,  whether 
acquainted  with  the  ladies  who  were  in  waiting,  or  not,  he 
must  have  seen  that  both  were  bewitchingly  beautiful^ 
one  being  Luisa  Valverde,  the  other  Ysabel  Almonte*. 


CHAPTER  XX 
A  PAIR  OF  BEAUTIFUL  PETITIONERS 

SOON  as  the  aide-de-camp  had  closed  the  door  behind 
him,  Santa  Anna  sprang  up  from  his  seat  and  hastily 
stumped  it  to  a  large  cheval  glass  which  stood  on  one  side 
of  the  room.  Squaring  himself  before  this  he  took  survey 
of  his  person  from  crown  to  toes.  He  gave  a  pull  or  two 
at  his  moustaches,  twisting  their  points,  and  turning  them 
upward  along  his  cheeks.  Then  running  his  fingers  comb 
like*  through  his  hair,  he  gave  that  also  a  jaunty  set  In 
fine,  straightening  himself  in  his  gold-braided  uniform 
frock,  with  a  last  glance  down  to  his  feet — this  resulting 
in  a  slight  grimace — he  returned  to  the  state  chair  and 
reseated  himself. 

With  all  his  gallantry  and  politeness — and  to  these  he 
made  much  pretension — it  was  not  his  custom  to  receive 
lady  visitors  standing.  In  the  upright  attitude  the 
artificial  leg  made  him  look  stiff,  and  he  preferred  stowing 
it  away  under  the  table.  Besides,  there  was  his  dignity,  as 
the  grand  figure-head  of  the  nation,  which  he  now  wished 
to  have  its  full  effect.  Leaning  forward,  he  gave  a  down- 
ward blow  to  the  spring  of  the  table  bell ;  then  assuming 
an  attitude  of  expectant  grandeur,  sate  expectant.  This 
time  the  aide-de-camp  required  no  passing  to  and  fro ;  and 
the  door  again  opening,  the  ladies  were  ushered  into  the 
august  presence. 

In  their  air  and  manner  they  betrayed  agitation  too, 
while  the  serious  expression  upon  their  features  told  they 

were  there  on  no  trivial  errand. 

KM 


A   PAIR    OF   BEAUTIFUL    PETITIONERS.  IO7 

"Pray  be  seated,  ladies,"  said  the  Dictator,  after  ex. 
changing  salutations  with  them.  "'Tis  not  often  the 
Condesa  Almonte*  honours  the  Palacio  with  her  presence, 
and  for  the  Senorita  Valverde,  were  it  not  for  official 
relations  with  her  father,  I  fear,  we  should  see  even  less  of 
her  than  we  do." 

While  speaking  he  pointed  to  a  couple  of  couch  chairs 
that  stood  near  the  table. 

They  sat  down  rather  hesitatingly,  and  slightly  trem- 
bling. Not  that  either  would  have  been  at  all  timid  had 
the  occasion  been  a  common  one.  Both  were  of  Mexico's 
best  blood,  the  Condesa  one  of  the  old  noblesse  who  hold 
their  heads  higher  even  than  the  political  chief  of  the 
State,  when  he  chances  to  be — as  more  than  once  has 
occurred — an  adventurer  of  humbler  birth.  Therefore,  it 
was  not  any  awe  of  the  great  dignitary  that  now  unnerved 
them,  but  the  purpose  for  which  they  were  seeking  speech 
with  him.  Whether  Santa  Anna  guessed  it,  or  not,  could 
not  be  told  by  his  looks.  An  experienced  diplomatist,  he 
could  keep  his  features  fixed  and  immovable  as  the  Sphinx, 
or  play  them  to  suit  the  time  and  the  tune.  So,  after  having 
delivered  himself,  as  above,  with  the  blandest  of  smiles 
upon  his  face,  he  remained  silent,  awaiting  the  rejoinder. 

It  was  the  Condesa  who  made  it. 

"  Your  Excellency,"  she  said,  doing  her  utmost  to  look 
humble ;  "  we  have  come  to  beg  a  favour  from  you." 

A  gratified  look,  like  a  gleam  of  light,  illuminated 
Santa  Anna's  swarthy  features.  Ysabel  Almonte*  begging 
favours  from  him !  What  better  could  he  have  wished  ? 
With  all  his  command  of  features  he  but  ill  concealed  the 
triumph  he  now  felt  It  flashed  up  in  his  eyes  as  he  said 
respondingly, — 

"A  favour  you  would  ask?  Well,  if  it  be  within  my 
power  to  grant  it,  neither  the  Condesa  Almonte*,  nor  the 


IO8  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

Dona  Luisa  Valverde  need  fear  refusal.  Be  frank,  then, 
and  tell  me  what  it  is." 

The  Countess,  with  all  her  courage,  still  hesitated  to 
declare  it.  For  despite  the  ready  promise  of  compliance, 
she  did  fear  a  refusal ;  since  it  had  been  asked  for  that 
same  morning  and  though  not  absolutely  refused,  the 
answer  left  but  little  hope  of  its  being  conceded. 

As  is  known,  at  an  earlier  hour  Don  Ignacio  had  paid  a 
visit  to  the  Palacio,  to  seek  clemency  for  a  prisoner-of-war, 
Florence  Kearney.  But  pardon  for  a  state  prisoner  was 
also  included  in  his  application — that  being  Ruperto  Rivas. 
Of  all  this  the  ladies  were  well  aware,  since  it  was  at  their 
instigation,  and  through  their  importunity,  he  had  acted. 
It  was  only,  therefore,  by  the  urgency  of  a  despairing 
effort,  as  a  dernier  ressort,  these  had  now  sought  the 
presence  as  petitioners,  and  naturally  they  dreaded  denial. 

Noting  the  Condesa's  backwardness — a  thing  new  but 
not  displeasing  to  him,  since  it  gave  promise  of  influence 
over  her — Santa  Anna  said  interrogatively : 

"  Might  this  favour,  as  you  are  pleased  to  term  it,  have 
ought  to  do  with  a  request  lately  made  to  me  by  Don 
Ignacio  Valverde  ? " 

"Tis  the  same,  your  Excellency,"  answered  the  Coun- 
tess, at  length  recovering  spirit,  but  still  keeping  up  the  air 
of  meek  supplication  she  had  assumed. 

"  Indeed  !  "  exclaimed  the  Dictator,  adding,  "  that 
grieves  me  very  much." 

He  made  an  attempt  to  look  sorry ;  though  it  needed 
none  for  him  to  appear  chagrined.  This  he  was  in  reality, 
and  for  reasons  intelligible.  Here  were  two  ladies,  both 
of  whom  he  had  amatory  designs  upon,  each  proclaiming 
by  her  presence — as  it  were  telling  him  to  his  teeth,  the 
great  interest  she  felt  in  another — that  or  she  would  not 
have  been  there  1 


A   PAIR    OF    BEAUTIFUL    PETITIONERS.  1 09 

*  But  why,  Excellentissimo  ? "  asked  the  Countess, 
entreatingly.  "What  is  there  to  grieve  you  in  giving 
their  freedom  to  two  men — gentlemen,  neither  of  whom 
has  been  guilty  of  crime,  and  who  are  in  prison  only  for 
offences  your  Excellency  can  easily  pardon  ?  " 

"  Not  so  easily  as  you  think,  Condesa.  You  forget  that 
1  am  but  official  head  of  the  State,  and  have  others  to 
consult — my  Ministers  and  the  Congress — in  affairs  of 
such  magnitude.  Know,  too,  that  both  these  men  for 
whom  you  solicit  pardon  have  been  guilty  of  the  gravest 
offences ;  one  of  them,  a  foreigner,  an  enemy  of  our 
country,  taken  in  arms  against  it ;  the  other,  I  am  sorry 
to  say,  a  citizen,  who  has  become  a  rebel,  and  worse  still, 
a  robber ! " 

"'Tis  false!"  exclaimed  the  Countess,  all  at  once  chang- 
ing tone,  and  seeming  to  forget  the  place  she  was  in  and 
the  presence.  "Don  Ruperto  Rivas  is  no  robber;  never 
was,  nor  rebel  either  ;  instead,  the  purest  of  patriots  !  " 

Never  looked  Ysabel  Almontd  lovelier  than  at  that 
moment  —  perhaps  never  woman.  Her  spirit  roused, 
cheeks  red,  eyes  sparkling  with  indignation,  attitude  erect 
— for  she  had  started  up  from  her  chair — she  seemed  to  be 
the  very  impersonation  of  defiance,  angry,  but  beautiful. 
No  longer  meek  or  supplicating  now.  Instinct  or  intui- 
tion told  her  it  would  be  of  no  use  pleading  further,  and 
she  had  made  up  her  mind  for  the  worst. 

The  traits  of  beauty  which  her  excitement  called  forth, 
added  piquancy  to  her  natural  charms,  and  inflamed  Santa 
Anna's  wicked  passions  all  the  more.  But  more  than  any 
of  them  revenge.  For  now  he  knew  how  much  the  fair 
petitioner  was  interested  in  the  man  whose  suit  she  had 
preferred.  With  a  cold-cynicism — which,  however,  cost 
bim  an  effort — he  rejoined  : 

"  That,  perhaps,  is  your  way  of  thinking,  Condesa,     But 


IIO  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

it  remains  to  be  proved — and  the  prisoner  you  speak  of 
shall  have  an  opportunity  of  proving  it — with  his  inno- 
cence in  every  respect.  That  much  I  can  promise  you. 
The  same  for  him,"  he  added,  turning  to  Luisa  Valverde, 
"in  whom,  if  I  mistake  not,  the  Dona  Luisa  is  more 
especially  interested.  These  gentlemen  prisoners  shall 
have  a  fair  trial,  and  justice  done  them.  Now,  ladies  !  can 
you  ask  more  of  me  ?  ° 

They  did  not ;  both  seeing  it  would  be  to  no  purpose. 
Equally  purposeless  to  prolong  the  interview ;  and  they 
turned  toward  the  door,  the  daughter  of  Don  Ignacio 
leading  where  she  had  before  followed. 

This  was  just  as  Santa  Anna  wished  it.  Seemingly 
forgetful  of  his  cork  leg,  and  the  limp  he  took  such  pains 
to  conceal,  he  jerked  himself  out  of  his  chair  and  hurried 
after — on  a  feigned  plea  of  politeness.  Just  in  time  to  say 
to  the  Countess  in  a  hurried,  half  whisper  : — 

"If  the  Condesa  will  return,  and  prefer  her  request 
alone,  it  may  meet  with  more  favour." 

The  lady  passed  on,  with  head  held  disdainfully,  as 
though  she  heard  but  would  not  heed.  She  did  hear  what 
he  said,  and  it  brought  a  fresh  flush  upon  her  cheek,  with 
another  flash  of  anger  in  her  eyes.  For  she  could  not 
mistake  his  meaning,  and  knew  it  was  as  the  serpent 
whispering  into  the  ear  of  Eve, 


CHAPTER    XXI 
A   WOMAN'S   SCHEME. 

"  MY  poor  Ruperto  is  indeed  in  danger  !  Now  I  am  sure 
of  it.  Ah,  even  to  his  life  !  And  I  may  be  the  cause  of 
his  losing  it." 

So  spoke  the  Countess  Almonte",  half  in  soliloquy,  though 
beside  her  sat  her  friend  Luisa  Valverde.  They  were  in  a 
carriage  on  return  from  their  fruitless  visit  to  the  Dictator. 
It  was  the  Countess*  own  landau  which  had  remained 
waiting  for  them  outside  the  Palace  gates. 

The  other,  absorbed  with  her  own  anxieties,  might  not 
have  noticed  what  was  said  but  for  its  nature.  This,  being 
in  correspondence  with  what  was  at  the  moment  in  her 
own  mind,  caught  her  ear,  almost  making  her  start.  For 
she,  too,  was  thinking  of  a  life  endangered,  and  how  much 
that  danger  might  be  due  to  herself.  It  was  not  poor 
Ruperto's  life,  but  poor  Florencio's. 

"  You  the  cause,  Ysabel  !  "  she  said,  not  in  surprise,  save 
at  the  similarity  of  their  thoughts.  "  Ah  !  yes  ;  I  think  1 
comprehend  you." 

"  If  not,  amiga,  don't  ask  explanation  of  it  now.  It's  a 
hateful  thing,  and  I  dislike  to  think,  much  more  speak  of 
it.  Some  other  time  I'll  tell  you  all.  Now  we've  work  to 
do  —  a  task  that  will  take  all  our  energies  —  all  our  cunning 
to  accomplish  it.  However  is  it  to  be  done  ?  Valga  me 


To  her  interrogatory  she  did  not  expect  reply.    And  the 

desponding  look  of  Luisa  Valverde  showed  she  had  none 

111 


112  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

to  give  ulat  would  be  satisfactory ;  for  she  quite  understood 
what  was  the  task  spoken  of,  and  equally  comprehended 
the  difficulty  of  its  accomplishment.  Perplexed  as  the 
Countess  herself,  and  possibly  more  despairing,  she  could 
but  echo  the  exclamatory  words, — 

"  How  indeed  !    Valga  me  Dios" 

For  awhile  they  sat  without  further  exchange  of  speech, 
both  buried  in  thought.  Not  long,  however,  when  the 
Countess  again  spoke,  saying, — 

"  You're  not  good  at  dissembling,  Luisita ;  I  wish  you 
were." 

"  Santissima  !  "  exclaimed  her  friend,  alike  surprised  at 
the  remark  as  at  its  abruptness.  "  Why  do  you  wish  that 
Ysabel?" 

"Because  I  think  I  know  a  way  by  which  something 
might  be  done — if  you  were  but  the  woman  to  do  it." 

"Oh,  Ysabelita !  I  will  do  anything  to  get  Florencio  out 
of  prison." 

"  It  isn't  Florencio  I  want  you  to  get  out,  but  Ruperto. 
Leave  the  getting  out  of  Florencio  to  me." 

Still  more  astonished  was  Don  Ignacio's  daughter.  What 
could  the  countess  mean  now  ?  She  put  the  question  to 
her  thus, — 

"  What  is  it  you  desire  me  to  do  ? " 

"  Practise  a  little  deception — play  the  coquette — that's 
all." 

It  was  not  in  Luisa  Valverde's  nature.  If  she  had  many 
admirers,  and  she  had — some  of  them  over  head  and  ears 
in  love  with  her — it  was  from  no  frivolity,  or  encourage- 
ment given  them,  on  her  part.  From  the  day  Florence 
Kearney  first  made  impression  upon  her  heart,  it  had  been 
true  to  him,  and  she  loyal  throughout  all.  So  much  that 
people  thought  her  cold,  some  even  pronouncing  her  a 
prude.  They  knew  not  how  warmly  that  heart  beat, 


A   WOMAN  S   SCHEME.  113 

though  it  was  but  for  one.  Thinking  of  this  one,  however, 
what  the  countess  proposed  gave  her  a  shock,  which  the 
latter  perceiving,  added,  with  a  laugh — 

"  Only  for  a  time,  amiga  mia.  I  don't  want  you  to  keep 
it  up  till  you've  got  a  naughty  name.  Nor  to  make  fools 
of  all  the  fine  gentlemen  I  see  dangling  around  you.  Only 
one." 

"Which  one?" 

She  was  not  averse  to  hearing  what  the  scheme  was,  at 
all  events.  How  could  she  be,  in  view  of  the  object  aimed 
at? 

"  A  man,"  pursued  the  Countess,  "  who  can  do  more  for 
us  than  your  father  ;  more  than  we've  been  able  to  do  our- 
selves." 

"Who  is  he?" 

"  Don  Carlos  Santander,  colonel  of  Hussars  on  the  staff 
— aide-de-camp  and  adjutant  to  El  Excellentissimo  in 
more  ways  than  military  ones — some  not  quite  so  honour- 
able, 'tis  said.  Said  also,  that  this  staff  colonel,  for  reasons 
nobody  seems  to  know,  or  need  we  care,  has  more  influence 
at  Court  than  almost  any  one  else.  So  what  I  want  you 
to  do  is  to  utilise  this  influence  for  our  purpose,  which  I 
know  you  can." 

"  Ah,  Ysabelita !  How  much  you  are  mistaken,  to  think 
I  could  influence  him  to  that !  Carlos  Santander  would 
be  the  last  man  to  help  me  in  procuring  pardon  for 
Florencio — the  very  last.  You  know  why." 

"  Oh  yes ;  I  know.  But  he  may  help  me  in  procuring 
pardon  for  Ruperto.  Luckily  my  good  looks,  if  I  have 
any  never  received  notice  from  the  grand  colonel,  who  has 
eyes  only  for  you  ;  so  he's  not  jealous  of  Ruperto.  As  the 
obsequious  servant  of  his  master,  hostile  to  him  no  doubt ; 
but  that  might  be  overcome  by  your  doing  as  I  should 
direct." 


114  THE   FREB   LANCES. 

w  But  what  would  you  have  me  do." 

"Show  yourself  complaisant  to  the  Colonel.  Only  in 
appearance,  as  I've  said  ;  and  only  for  a  time  till  you've 
tried  your  power  over  him,  and  see  with  what  success." 

"  I'm  sure  it  would  fail." 

"  I  don't  think  it  would,  amiga  mia;  and  will  not,  if  you 
go  about  it  according  to  instructions.  Though  it  may  cost 
yon  some  unpleasantness,  Luisita,  and  an  effort,  you'll 
make  it  for  my  sake,  won't  you  ?  And  as  a  reward,"  pur- 
sued the  Countess,  as  if  to  render  her  appeal  more  surely 
effective,  "  I  shall  do  as  much  for  you,  and  in  a  similar 
way.  For  I,  too,  intend  counterfeiting  complacency  in  a 
certain  quarter,  and  in  the  interest  of  a  different  individual 
— Don  Florencio.  Now,  you  understand  me  ?" 

"  Not  quite  yet." 

"Never  mind.  Til  make  it  more  plain  by-and-by. 
Only  promise  me  that  you'll  do " 

"  Dearest  Ysabelita  !  I'd  do  anything  for  you." 

"And  Don  Florencio.  I  thought  that  would  secure  your 
consent  Well,  mil  mil  gracias !  But  what  a  game  of 
cross-purposes  we'll  be  playing;  I  for  you,  and  you  for 
me,  and  neither,for  ourselves !  Let  us  hope  we  may  both 
win." 

By  this  the  carriage  had  stopped  in  front  of  the  Casa 
Valverde  to  set  down  Dona  Luisa.  The  Countess  alighted 
also,  ordering  the  horses  home.  It  was  but  a  step  to  her 
own  house,  and  she  could  walk  it.  For  she  had  something 
more  to  say  which  required  saying  there  and  then.  Passing 
on  into  the  patio,  far  enough  to  be  beyond  earshot  of  the 
"cochero,"  and  there  stopping,  she  resumed  the  dialogue  at 
the  point  where  she  had  left  off. 

"  We  must  set  to  work  at  once,"  she  said  ;  "  this  very 
day,  if  opportunity  offer.  Perhaps  in  the  procession " 

"  Oh  !  Ysabel  ? "  interrupted  the  other.     "  How  I  dislike 


A   WOMAN  S   SCHEME.  I  Ijf 

the  thought  of  this  procession — making  merry  as  it  were, 
and  he  in  a  prison  !  And  we  must  pass  it  too — its  very 
doors!  I'm  sure  I  shall  feel  like  springing  out  of  the 
carriage  and  rushing  inside  to  see  him." 

"  That  would  be  just  the  way  to  ensure  your  not  seeing 
him — perhaps,  never  more.  The  very  opposite  is  what  you 
must  do,  or  you'll  spoil  all  my  plans.  But  I'll  instruct  you 
better  before  we  start  out."  * 

"  You  insist,  then,  on  our  going  ? " 

"  Of  course,  yes  ;  for  the  very  reason — the  very  purpose 
we've  been  speaking  of.  That's  just  why  I  ask  you  to 
take  me  with  you.  It  will  never  do  to  offend  his  High 
Mightiness,  angry  as  we  may  be  with  him.  I'm  now  sorry 
at  having  shown  temper ;  but  how  could  I  help  it,  hearing 
Ruperto  called  a  robber  ?  However,  that  may  be  all  for 
the  best.  So,  upstairs;  turn  out  your guarda-roba,  and  your 
jewel  case ;  array  yourself  in  your  richest  apparel,  and  be 
in  readiness  for  the  gilded  coach  when  it  comes  round. 
Carrambal"  she  added  after  drawing  out  her  jewelled 
watch, — one  of  Losada's  best — and  glancing  at  its  dial, 
"  we  haven't  a  moment  to  spare,  I  must  be  off  to  my  toilet 
too." 

She  had  made  a  step  in  the  direction  of  the  street,  when 
suddenly  turning  again  she  added, — 

"  As  a  last  word,  lest  I  might  forget  it.  When  next  you 
appear  in  the  Grand  Presence  drop  that  forlorn  doleful 
look.  Misery  is  the  weakest  weapon  either  man  or  weman 
can  make  use  of — the  very  worst  advocate  in  any  cause. 
So  don't  show  it,  especially  in  the  company  of  Don  Carlos 
Santander,  where  in  all  likelihood  you  will  be  before  the 
end  of  another  hour.  Try  to  look  cheerful,  put  on  your 
sweetest  smile,  though  it  be  a  feigned  one,  as  I  intend 
doing  for  Antonio  Lopez  de  Santa  Anna." 

She  took  her  departure  now;    but  as  she  passed  out 


Il6  THE   FREF    LANCES. 

through  the  saguan  a  cloud  could  be  seen  upon  her  counte- 
nance, more  than  that  from  the  shadow  of  the  arched 
gateway,  telling  that  she  herself  needed  quite  as  much  as 
her  friend-  admonition  to  be  cheerful 


CHAPTER  XX11. 
IN   THE   SEWERS. 

ALONG  with  a  score  of  other  prisoners,  the  "  chain  gang  " 
of  the  Acordada,  Kearney,  Rock,  Rivas,  and  the  dwarf 
were  conducted  out  into  the  street,  and  on  the  Calle  de 
Plateros.  Dominguez,  the  gaoler,  went  with  them — having 
received  orders  to  that  effect — carrying  a  heavy  cuarta 
with  hard  rawhide  lash  knotted  at  the  end.  Their  escort 
consisted  of  two  or  three  files  of  the  prison  guard,  dirty 
looking  soldiers  of  the  infanteria,  in  coarse  linen  uniforms, 
stiff  shakoes  on  their  heads,  their  arm  the  old-fashioned 
flint-lock  musket. 

The  scavengers  had  still  their  ankle  chains  on,  coupled 
two  and  two,  these  lengthened,  however,  to  give  more 
freedom  to  their  work.  One  reason  for  keeping  them 
chained  is  to  economise  the  strength  of  the  guard,  a  single 
sentry  thus  being  as  good  as  a  dozen.  Of  course,  it  is  an 
additional  precaution  against  escape,  a  thing  which  %might 
seem  impossible  under  the  muzzles  of  muskets  and 
bayonets  fixed.  But  to  desperadoes  such  as  are  some 
of  the  Acordada  gaol  birds  it  would  not  be  so  if  left  leg 
free.  More  than  once  had  the  attempt  been  made,  and 
with  success  ;  for  in  no  city  is  it  easier,  or  indeed  so  easy. 
In  the  Mexican  metropolis  there  are  whole  districts  where 
the  policeman  fears  to  show  his  face,  and  a  criminal  pur- 
sued, even  by  soldiers  in  uniform,  would  have  every  door 
thrown  open  to  him,  and  every  opportunity  given  for 

stowing  himself  away.     Get  he  but  out  into  the  country, 

117 


Il8  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

and  up  to  the  mountains — on  all  sides  conveniently  near— - 
his  chances  are  even  better,  since  the  first  man  there  met 
may  be  either  footpad  or  saltcador. 

As  said,  the  street  to  which  the  scavengers  were  taken 
was  the  Calle  de  Plateros,  where  it  ends  at  the  Alameda 
Gate.  The  covering  flags  of  the  zancas  had  been  already 
lifted  off,  exposing  to  view  the  drain  brimful  of  liquid  filth  • 
the  tools  were  beside — scoops,  drags,  and  shovels  having 
been  sent  on  before. 

Soon,  on  arriving  on  its  edge,  Dominguez,  who  kept 
close  by  the  two  couples  in  which  were  the  Tejanos, 
ordered  them  to  lay  hold  and  fall  to. 

There  could  be  no  question  of  refusal  or  disobedience. 
From  the  way  he  twirled  the  quirt  between  his  fingers  it 
looked  as  though  he  wished  there  was,  so  that  he  might 
have  an  excuse  for  using  it.  Besides,  any  hanging  back 
would  be  rewarded  by  a  blow  from  the  butt  of  a  musket, 
and,  persisted  in,  possibly  a  bayonet  thrust — like  as  not  to 
lame  the  refractory  individual  for  life. 

There  was  no  need  for  such  violent  measures  now.  The 
others  of  the  gang  had  done  scavenger  work  before ;  and 
knowing  its  ways,  went  at  it  as  soon  as  the  word  was 
given.  Nolens  volens  Kearney  and  Cris  Rock,  with  their 
chain  partners,  had  to  do  likewise  ;  though,  perhaps,  never 
man  laid  hold  of  labourer's  tool  with  more  reluctance  than 
did  the  Texan.  It  was  a  long  shafted  shovel  that  had 
been  assigned  to  him,  and  the  first  use  he  made  of  the 
implement  was  to  swing  it  round  his  head,  as  though  he 
intended  bringing  it  down  on  that  of  one  of  the  sentries 
who  stood  beside. 

"  Durnashun !  "  he  shrieked  out,  still  brandishing  the  tool 
and  looking  the  soldier  straight  in  the  face.  "  If 't  warn't 
that  the  thing  'ud  be  o'  no  use,  an*  you  ain't  the  one  as 
is  to  blame,  I'd  brain  ye  on  the  spot,  ye  ugly  yallerbelly 


IN    THE    SEWE*"  12Q 

Wage  I  Let  me  get  back  to  Texas,  and  grip  o*  a  good 
rifle,  the  Mexikin  as  kums  my  way  may  look  out  for 
partickler  forked  lightnin1 !  " 

Though  not  comprehending  a  word  of  what  was  said 
the  little  manikin  of  a  militario  was  so  frightened  by  the 
big  fellow's  gestures  as  to  spring  back  several  feet,  with  a 
look  of  alarm  so  intense,  yet  so  comical,  as  to  set  the 
Texan  off  into  a  roar  of  laughter.  And  still  laughing,  he 
faced  towards  the  sewer,  plunged  in  his  implement,  and  set 
to  work  with  the  others. 

At  first  the  task  was  comparatively  clean  and  easy — a 
sort  of  skimming  affair — the  scavengers  keeping  upon  the 
pavement.  The  necessity  had  not  yet  arisen  for  them 
going  down  into  the  drain. 

After  a  time,  however,  as  the  liquid  got  lower  and  the 
sediment  at  the  bottom  too  stiff  to  be  coveniently  scooped 
up,  a  number  of  them  were  ordered  to  "step  in."  It  was  a 
cruel,  brutal  order,  and  Bill  Sykes  would  have  declined 
sending  his  "  bull-dawg  "  into  that  sewer  after  rats.  But 
Dominguez,  a  sort  of  Mexican  Bill  Sykes,  had  no  scruples 
about  this  with  the  unfortunates  he  had  charge  of,  and 
with  a  " carajo"  and  a  threatening  flourish  of  his  whip,  he 
repeated  the  order.  One  or  two  of  the  forzados  took  the 
plunge  good  humouredly,  even  to  laughing,  as  they  dropped 
into  the  stuff,  waist  deep,  sending  the  mud  in  splashes 
all  round.  The  dainty  ones  went  in  more  leisurely,  some 
of  them  needing  a  little  persuasion  at  the  point  of  the 
bayonet. 

Cris  Rock  was  already  down,  having  gone  voluntarily. 
Only  one  of  each  couple  had  been  ordered  below ;  and, 
much  as  he  disliked  the  dwarf,  he  had  no  wish  to  see  him 
drowned  or  suffocated,  which  the  diminutive  creature  would 
well-nigh  have  been  in  the  horrible  cesspool.  Tall  as  the 
Texan  was,  the  stuff  reached  up  to  his  thighs,  the  surface 


I2O  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

of  the  street  itself  being  on  a  level  with  his  arm-pits,  while 
only  the  heads  of  the  others  could  be  seen  above  the 
stones. 

Neither  Kearney  nor  Rivas  had  yet  taken  the  plunge. 
They  still  stood  on  the  brink,  discussing  the  question  of 
precedence.  Not  that  either  wished  the  other  to  do  the 
disagreeable ;  instead,  the  reverse.  Strange  as  it  may 
appear,  knowing  or  believing  him  to  be  a  bandit,  the 
young  Irishman  had  taken  a  liking  to  the  Mexican,  and 
the  feeling  was  reciprocated,  so  that  each  was  now  trying 
to  restrain  the  other  from  entering  the  ugly  gulf. 

But  their  friendly  contest  was  cut  short  by  the  brutal 
gaoler  ;  who,  advancing,  grasped  Rivas  by  the  shoulder, 
and  with  his  other  hand  pointing  downward  shouted 
"Abajol* 

There  was  no  help  for  it  but  obey ;  the  alternative  sure 
of  being  something  worse.  For  the  man  so  rudely  com- 
manded went  down  willingly ;  indeed,  with  alacrity,  to 
satisfy  his  impulse  of  friendship  for  the  Irlandes. 

Had  Carlos  Santander  been  there  likely  the  position 
would  have  been  reversed,  and  Kearney  compelled  to 
"take  the  ditch."  But  the  Governor  of  the  Acordada  had 
control  of  details,  and  to  his  hostility  and  spleen,  late 
stirred  by  that  wordy  encounter  with  Rivas,  the  latter  was 
no  doubt  indebted  for  the  partiality  shown  him  by  Don 
Pedro's  head  turnkey. 

In  time,  all  were  disposed  of:  one  of  each  couple  down 
in  the  sewer,  pitching  out  its  sweet  contents ;  the  other 
pressing  them  back  upon  the  pavement  to  prevent  their 
oozing  in  again.  Either  way  the  work  was  now  nasty 
enough ;  but  for  those  below,  it  was  a  task  too  repulsive 
to  set  even  the  lowest  pariah  at 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 
THE  PROCESSION. 

DISAGREEABLE  as  was  their  job,  some  of  the  forzados  made 
light  of  it,  bandying  jests  with  the  street  passengers,  who 
did  not  find  it  safe  to  go  too  near  them.  A  scoopful  of 
the  inky  liquid  could  be  flung  so  as  to  spoil  the  polish  on 
boots,  or  sent  its  splashes  over  apparel  still  higher.  Even 
the  vigilance  of  the  sentries  could  not  prevent  this,  or 
rather  they  cared  not  to  exercise  it.  The  victims  of  such 
practical  jokes  were  usually  either  of  the  class  pelado>  or 
the  yet  more  humble  aboriginals,  accustomed  to  be  put 
upon  by  the  soldiers  themselves,  who  rather  relished  the 
fun. 

But  only  the  more  abandoned  of  the  gaol-birds  behaved 
in  this  way,  many  of  them  seeming  to  feel  the  degradation 
more  than  aught  else.  For  among  them,  as  we  knew, 
were  men  who  should  not  have  been  there.  Some  may 
have  seen  friends  passing  by,  who_gave  them  looks  of 
sympathy  or  pity,  and  possibly  more  than  one  knew 
himself  under  eyes  whose  expression  told  of  a  feeling 
stronger  than  either  of  these — love  itself.  Indeed  this 
last,  or  something  akin  to  it,  seemed  the  rule  rather  than 
the  exception.  In  Mexico,  he  must  be  a  deeply  disgraced 
criminal  whose  sweetheart  would  be  ashamed  of  him  ;  and 
every  now  and  then,  a  brown-skinned  "  muchacha  "  might 
be  seen  crossing  to  where  the  scavengers  were  at  work, 
and,  with  a  muttered  word  or  two,  passing  something  into 
a  hand  eagerly  outstretched  to  receive  it.  The  sentries 


122  THE   FREE    LANCES. 

permitted  this,  after  examining  the  commodity  so  tendered 
and  seeing  it  a  safe  thing  to  be  entrusted  to  the  receiver. 
These  gifts  of  friendship,  or  gages  d'amour,  were  usually 
eatables  from  the  nearest  cook-shop  ;  their  donors  well 
knowing  that  the  fare  of  the  Acordada  was  neither  plenti- 
ful nor  sumptuous. 

But  beyond  these  interested  ones,  few  of  the  pedestrians 
stopped  or  even  looked  at  the  chain-gang.  To  most,  if  not 
all,  it  was  an  ordinary  spectacle,  and  attracted  no  more 
attention  than  would  a  crossing-sweeper  on  a  London 
street.  Not  as  much  as  the  latter,  as  he  is  often  an 
Oriental.  On  that  particular  day,  however,  the  party  of 
scavengers  presented  a  novelty,  in  having  the  two  Tejanos 
in  it ;  'with  a  yet  greater  one  in  the  odd  juxtaposition  of 
Cris  Rock  and  his  diminutive  "  mate."  In  Mexico,  a  man 
over  six  feet  in  height  is  a  rarity,  and  as  Cris  exceeded  this 
by  six  inches,  a  rarer  sight  still  was  he.  The  colossus 
coupled  to  the  dwarf,  as  Gulliver  to  Lilliputian — a  crooked 
Lilliputian  at  that — no  wonder  that  a  knot  of  curious 
gazers  collected  around  them,  many  as  they  approached 
the  grotesque  spectacle  uttering  ejaculations  of  surprise. 

"  Ay  Dios  !  "  exclaimed  one.  "  Gigante  y  enano  !  "  (a 
giant  and  a  dwarf ) — "and  chained  together!  Who  ever 
saw  the  like  ? " 

Such  remarks  were  continually  passing  among  the  spec- 
tators, who  laughed  as  they  listened  to  them.  And  though 
the  Texan  could  not  tell  what  they  said,  their  laughter 
"riled"  him.  He  supposed  it  a  slur  upon  his  extraordinary 
stature,  of  which  he  was  himself  no  little  proud,  while  they 
seemed  to  regard  it  sarcastically.  Could  they  have  had 
translated  to  them  the  rejoinders  that  now  and  then  came 
from  his  lips,  like  the  rumbling  of  thunder,  they  would 
have  felt  their  sarcasm  fully  paid  back,  with  some  change 
over.  As  a  specimen  :• — 


THE   PROCESSION.  123 

a  Devil  darn  ye,  for  a  set  of  yaller-jawed  pigmies !  Ef  I 
hed  about  a  millyun  o'  ye  out  in  the  open  purairu,  I'd  gie 
you  somethin'  to  larf  at.  Dod-rot  me  !  ef  I  don't  b'lieve  a 
pack  o'  coycoats  ked  chase  as  many  o'  ye  as  they'd  count 
themselves  ;  ond  arter  runnin*  ye  down  'ud  scorn  to  put 
tooth  into  yur  stinkin'  carcasses !  " 

Fortunately  for  him,  the  "  yaller-jawed  pigmies  "  under- 
stood not  a  word  of  all  this  ;  else,  notwithstanding  his 
superior  size  and  strength,  he  might  have  had  rough  hand- 
ling from  them.  Without  that,  he  was  badly  plagued  by 
their  behaviour,  as  a  bull  fretted  with  flies  ;  which  may 
have  had  something  to  do  with  his  readiness  to  go  down 
into  the  drain.  There,  up  to  his  elbows,  he  was  less  con- 
spicuous, and  so  less  an  object  of  curiosity. 


It  had  got  to  be  noon,  with  the  sun  at  fire  heat ;  but  for 
all  \htforzados  were  kept  on  at  work.  No  rest  for  them 
until  the  task  should  be  completed,  and  they  taken  back  to 
their  prison  quarters  at  a  late  hour  of  the  afternoon.  The 
cruel  gaoler  told  them  so  in  a  jeering  way.  He  seemed  to 
take  a  pleasure  in  making  things  disagreeable  to  them,  as 
he  strutted  to  and  fro  along  their  line,  flourishing  his  quirt ^ 
and  giving  grand  exhibition  of  his  "  brief  authority." 

A  little  after  midday,  however,  there  came  a  change 
in  their  favour,  brought  by  unlooked-for  circumstances. 
Groups  of  people  began  to  gather  in  the  Calle  de  Plateros, 
swarming  into  it  from  side  streets,  and  taking  stand  upon 
the  footwalk.  Soon  they  lined  it  all  along  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach.  Not  pelados,  but  most  of  them  belonging  to 
a  class  respectable,  attired  in  their  holiday  clothes,  as  on  a 
dia  de  fiesta.  Something  of  this  it  was,  as  the  scavengers 
were  presently  told,  though  some  of  them  may  have  had 
word  of  it  before  without  feeling  any  concern  about  it 


124  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

Two,  however,  whom  it  did  concern — though  little  dreamt 
they  of  its  doing  so — were  only  made  aware  of  what  the 
crowd  was  collecting  for,  when  it  began  to  thicken.  These 
were  Kearney  and  Rivas,  who,  knowing  the  language  of 
the  country,  could  make  out  from  what  was  being  said 
around  them  that  there  was  to  be  a  funcion.  The  founda- 
tion-stone of  a  new  church  was  to  be  laid  in  the  suburb  of 
San  Cosine*,  the  chief  magistrate  of  the  State  himself  to  lay 
it — with  all  ceremony  and  a  silver  trowel.  The  procession, 
formed  in  the  Plaza  Grande,  would,  of  course,  pass  through 
the  Calle  de  Plateros ;  hence  the  throng  of  the  people  in 
that  street. 

Funcions  and  fiestas  are  of  such  frequent  occurrence  in 
the  Mexican  metropolis — as  indeed  everywhere  else  in 
that  land  of  the  far  niente — that  this,  an  ordinary  one 
and  not  much  announced,  excited  no  particular  interest, 
save  in  the  suburb  of  3an  Cosme  itself — a  quarter  where 
a  church  might  be  much  needed,  being  a  very  den  of 
disreputables.  Still,  a  large  number  of  people  had  put 
on  their  best  apparel,  and  sallied  forth  to  witness  the 
procession. 

This  did  not  delay  long  in  showing  itself.  It  came 
heralded  by  the  stirring  notes  of  a  trumpet,  then  the 
booming  of  the  big  drum  in  a  band  of  music — military. 
A  troop  of  cavalry — Lancers — formed  the  advance,  to 
clear  the  way  for  what  was  to  follow  ;  this  being  a  couple 
of  carriages,  in  which  were  seated  the  Bishop  of  Mexico 
and  his  ecclesiastical  staff,  all  in  grand,  gaudy  raiments  ; 
on  such  an  occasion  the  Church  having  precedence,  and 
the  post  of  honour. 

Behind  came  the  gilded  coach  of  the  Dictator — flanked 
on  each  side  by  guards  in  gorgeous  uniform — himself  in  it 
Not  alone,  but  with  one  seated  by  his  side,  whose  presence 
there  caused  Florence  Kearney  surprise,  great  as  he  ever 


THE   PROCESSION.  125 

experienced  in  his  life.  Despite  the  coat  of  diplomatic  cut 
and  its  glittering  insignia,  he  easily  recognised  his  ci-devant 
teacher  of  the  Spanish  tongue — Don  Ignacio  Valverde. 

But  great  as  was  his  astonishment,  he  was  left  no  time 
to  indulge  in  it,  or  speculate  how  his  old  "  crammer  "  came 
to  be  there.  For  close  behind  the  Dictator's  carriage 
followed  another,  holding  one  who  had  yet  more  interest 
for  him  than  Don  Ignacio — Don  Ignacio's  daughter  1 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 
SIGNIFICANT  GLANCES. 

VES  ;  the  lady  in  the  carnage  was  Luisa  Valverde.  Too 
surely  she,  thought  Florence  Kearney  ;  for  seeing  her  there 
was  painful  to  him — a  shock — as  one  who  sees  the  woman 
he  loves  in  the  jaws  of  some  great  danger.  And  so  he 
believed  her  to  be,  as  a  host  of  unpleasant  memories  came 
crowding  into  his  mind  like  hideous  spectres.  No  imagin- 
ation either,  but  a  danger  real  and  present  before  his  eyes 
at  that  moment,  in  the  person  of  a  man,  riding  by  the  side 
of  the  carriage  in  which  she  sat — Carlos  Santander.  He 
it  was,  in  a  gold  laced  uniform,  with  a  smile  of  proud  satis- 
faction on  his  face.  What,  a  contrast  to  the  craven, 
crestfallen  wretch  who,  under  a  coating  of  dull  green  ooze, 
crawled  out  of  the  ditch  at  Pontchartrain  !  And  a  still 
greater  contrast  in  the  circumstances  of  the  two  men — 
fortunes,  positions,  apparel,  everything  reversed. 

The  Hussar  colonel  appeared  not  to  be  one  of  the 
regular  escorts  attending  upon  the  Dictator,  but  detached, 
and  free  to  choose  his  place  in  the  procession.  Well  had 
he  chosen  it,  any  one  would  say ;  for  there  was  a  second 
lady  in  the  carriage,  young  and  beautiful,  too ;  as  may  be 
guessed — the  Condesa  Almonte".  But  he  seemed  to  have 
no  eyes  for  her,  nor  words ;  his  looks  and  speech  all  be- 
stowed upon  Luisa  Valverde.  For  he  was  smilingly 
conversing  with  her,  and  she  appeared  to  listen  attentively, 
returning  his  smiles ! 

A  spectacle  to  Kearney  not  only  saddening,  but  madden. 


126 


SIGNIFICANT   GLANCES.  127 

ing.     Through  his  soul,  dark  as  winter  now,  swept  dire 
bitter  misgivings. 

"  Are  they  married  ?  No.  Tis  not  the  behaviour  of 
man  and  wife.  Soon  will  be — engaged,  no  doubt.  Yes  ; 
he  has  won  her  heart,  after  all ;  likely  had  it  then,  when 
I  believed  it  mine.  Such  deception  ?  O  God  ! " 

These  unspoken  questions  and  conjectures  passed  through 
his  mind  rapidly  as  thought  itself. 

They  were  interrupted  by  his  seeing  the  ladies — the 
carriage  being  now  nearly  abreast — turn  their  faces  towards 
him  in  an  odd  interrogative  way.  The  movement,  abrupt 
and  sudden,  seemed  prompted ;  and  so  had  it  been  by  him 
on  horseback.  Florence  Kearney  saw  him  nod  in  that 
direction,  his  lips  moving,  but  the  distance  was  too  great 
to  hear  what  he  said. 

"  Mira  !  Los  Tejanos  !  "  were  Santander's  words,  indi- 
cating the  group  of  which  they  formed  part.  "  One  of  them 
is,  if  I  mistake  not,  an  old  acquaintance  of  yours,  Don 
Luisa  ?  And  how  strange  !  "  he  added,  feigning  surprise. 
"  Chained  to  a  criminal — no,  let  me  not  call  him  that — an 
individual  in  whom  the  Condesa  Almonte*  takes  an  interest, 
if  rumour's  to  be  believed.  Is  it  so,  Condesa  ?  " 

Neither  of  them  made  response,  for  neither  was  now 
listening  to  him.  Each  had  her  eyes  upon  that  which  en- 
grossed all  her  attention,  one  fixedly  gazing  at  Florence 
Kearney,  the  other  at  Ruperto  Rivas.  For,  by  the  grace, 
or  rather  negligence,  of  their  guards,  the  latter  was  now  up 
on  the  pavement 

What  an  interchange  of  glances  between  the  pairs  thus 
brought  face  to  face !  What  a  variety  of  expression  upon 
their  features !  For  varied  and  strong  were  their  emotions 
at  this  moment — surprise,  sadness,  sympathy,  indignation, 
and,  amidst  all,  conspicuous  above  all,  looks  of  unchanged, 
ever-confiding  love ! 


1 28  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

He  who  had  brought  about  this  odd  interview — for  it 
had  been  pre-ai ranged — was  riding  on  the  left  and  near 
side  of  the  carriage,  the  sewer  being  on  the  right  and  off; 
which,  of  course,  placed  him  behind  the  backs  of  the  ladies 
as  they  now  were,  and  hindered  his  observing  their  faces, 
Could  he  have  seen  them  just  then,  he  might  have  doubted 
the  success  of  his  scheme,  and  certainly  could  not  have 
accounted  it  a  triumph.  For  the  eyes,  late  turned  smil- 
ingly upon  himself,  were  now  regarding  Florence  Kearney 
with  earnest,  sympathetic  gaze. 

And  the  man,  to  whom  this  was  given,  was  trying  his 
best  to  interpret  it.  He  saw  that  she  turned  pale  as  her 
eyes  first  fell  upon  him.  That  might  be  but  surprise  seeing 
him  there,  with  the  consciousness  of  her  own  guilt.  Or  was 
it  pity  ?  If  so,  he  would  have  spurned  it.  All  the  tortures 
the  Acordada  could  inflict  upon  him,  all  the  toil  and  deg- 
radation would  be  easier  to  bear  than  that.  But  no.  It 
could  not  be  pity  alone.  The  sudden  start  and  paling 
cheek  ;  the  look  of  interest  in  those  eyes,  beautiful  as  ever, 
and  so  well  remembered ;  a  flash  in  them  that  recalled  the 
old  time  when  he  believed  her  heart  his  ;  all  spoke  of  some- 
thing more  than  mere  sympathy  with  his  misfortune. 
Before  the  carriage,  moving  slowly  on,  had  carried  her  out 
of  his  sight,  the  jealous  fancies  so  late  harrowing  his  soul, 
seemed  to  be  passing  away,  as  though  an  angel  was  whis- 
pering in  his  ear,  "  She  loves  you — still  loves  you  !  " 

Needless  to  say,  he  was  too  much  occupied  in  reading 
the  expression  on  Luisa  Valverde's  face  to  give  even  a 
look  to  the  other  beautiful  one  beside  it.  And  alike  was 
he  forgetful  of  the  man  who  stood  beside  himself.  Yet, 
between  these  two  neglected  individuals,  glances  were  being 
exchanged  also  in  earnest,  and  watchful  glances,  which 
told  of  their  being  as  much  interested  in  one  another  as  he 
in  Luisa  Valverde,  or  she  in  him.  Belter  comprehending 


SIGNIFICANT  GLANCES.  129 

one  another,  too,  as  a  physiognomist  could  have  told,  ob- 
serving the  play  of  their  features.  The  first  expression  on 
those  of  the  Condesa  was  surprise,  quick  changing  to  indig- 
nation, this  as  suddenly  disappearing  or  becoming  subdued, 
restrained  by  a  thought,  or  possibly  a  sign,  given  by  her 
"  dear,  noble  Ruperto."  As  evinced  by  the  fond,  yet  proud, 
sparkle  of  her  eyes,  he  was  no  less  dear  now,  no  less  noble 
in  that  degrading  garb,  than  when  she  knew  him  in  a  gold- 
laced  uniform,  splendid  as  that  worn  by  Santander,  and  he, 
in  her  eyes,  ten  times  more  worthy  of  wearing  it  If  he 
had  turned  bandit,  she  did  not  believe  it ;  though,  believing 
it,  she  would  have  loved  him  all  the  same.  Nor  in  this 
would  she  have  so  much  differed  from  the  rest  of  her  sex. 
Blameable  as  it  may  be,  love — even  that  of  a  lady — has  bu** 
little  to  do  with  the  moralities  ;  and  of  a  Mexican  lady 
perhaps  less  than  any  other.  Certain,  that  Ruperto  Rivas, 
robber  or  no,  in  that  crossing  of  glances  with  the  Condesa 
Almonte",  showed  no  sign  of  jealousy ;  instead,  full  confi- 
dence of  being  beloved  by  her. 

Though  the  account  of  this  little  episode  seems  long,  the 
actual  occurrence — gestures,  thoughts,  looks,  changes  of 
facial  expression — was  all  comprised  within  a  few  seconds 
of  time,  scarce  so  much  as  a  minute. 

Then  the  carriage  containing  the  two  ladies  passed  on 
out  of  sight,  other  carriages  following,  with  other  ladies  in 
them  ;  more  cavalry — Lancers,  Hussars,  and  heavy  Dra- 
goons— more  music,  mingling  with  the  shouts  and  cheers 
of  the  fickle  populace,  as  they  swarmed  along  the  foot  walk, 
every  now  and  then  vociferating, — 

"Viva,  Santa  Anna  el  lllustrissimo !  Viva,  el  Salvador 
de  la  Patria  !  " 


CHAPTER  XXV. 
A  MYSTERIOUS  MISSIVE. 

O !  YSABEL  !  To  think  of  it !  In  the  chain-gang — In  the 
sewers !  Madre  de  Dios  !  " 

Thus  passionately  exclaimed  Luisa  Valverde,  half  ad- 
dressing herself  to  the  Condesa  Almonte*,  in  her  father's 
house  again,  to  which  they  had  just  returned  from  the 
ceremony  of  the  procession.  They  were  in  the  sala,  seated 
upon  the  chair,  into  which  they  flung  themselves,  as  if 
overcome  with  fatigue. 

And  weariness  it  was,  but  not  of  the  body.  Their  souls 
were  awearied  through  being  unable  to  give  utterance  to 
the  thoughts  and  passions  that  for  hours  had  been  con- 
vulsing them.  Ever  since  passing  the  chain-gang  they  had 
been  forced  to  keep  up  faces,  seem  as  they  felt  not,  smile 
when  they  could  have  wept.  This  the  Condesa  had  coun- 
selled for  reasons  already  hinted  at ;  and  now  back  home, 
with  no  one  to  see  or  hear,  they  were  giving  way  to  the 
wild  tumult  of  emotion  so  long  pent  up. 

For  a  time  the  Condesa  made  no  rejoinder,  herself  as 
much  affected  as  her  friend.  Both  sat  in  despairing  atti- 
tudes, heads  drooped,  and  hands  clasping  them  as  though 
they  ached  ;  bosoms  rising  and  falling  in  laboured  undula- 
tion, the  hearts  within  them  painfully  pulsing.  All  so 
unlike  themselves,  in  such  discordance  with  their  great 
beauty,  and  the  rich  robes  they  wore.  Looking  at  two 
such  women,  one  could  ill  believe  it  possible  for  them  to 


A   MYSTERIOUS    MISSIVE. 

be  otherwise  than  happy ;  yet,  at  that  moment,  both  were 
miserable  as  misery  itself. 

"  Ah,  yes  !  "  sighed  the  Countess,  at  length,  and  like  as 
if  awakening  from  some  weird  dream,  its  impress  still  upon 
her  face.  "  To  think  of  it ;  and  fearful  it  is  to  think  of.  I 
understand  things  better  now.  My  Ruperto  is  indeed  in 
danger — more  than  I  this  morning  believed.  And  your 
Florencio  too.  I  could  read  his  death  in  the  eyes  of  Don 
Carlos  Santander ;  and  one  told  me  the  Tejanos  are  all  to 
be  shot !  " 

"O  Ysabel,  say  not  that!  If  they  kill  him,  they  may 
kill  me !  The  man  I  love !  Santa  Guadalupe — Blessed 
Virgin !  Save,  oh,  save  him  from  such  a  fate  ! " 

Against  the  wall  was  a  picture  of  this,  the  patroness 
Saint  of  Mexico — for  there  is  one  in  every  Mexican  house 
— and,  while  speaking,  the  young  girl  had  risen  from  her 
chair,  glided  across  the  room,  and  fallen  upon  her  knees 
before  it  In  this  attitude  she  remained  tor  some  moments, 
her  hands  crossed  over  her  breast,  her  lips  moving  as  though 
she  muttered  a  prayer. 

Altogether  differently  acted  the  Condesa.  She  was  not 
of  the  devotional  sort,  where  it  seemed  unlikely  to  be  of 
practical  service.  Good  Catholic  enough,  and  observant 
of  all  the  ceremonies,  but  no  believer  in  miracles;  and 
therefore  distrustful  of  what  Santa  Guadalupe,  or  any 
other  saint,  could  do  for  them.  She  had  more  belief  in 
the  Cromwellian  doctrine  of  keeping  the  powder  dry ;  and 
that  she  meant  to  practise  it,  not  with  powder,  but  with 
her  purse,  was  soon  made  evident  by  her  speech. 

"  It's  no  use  kneeling  there,"  she  said,  starting  to  her  feet, 
and  again  showing  spirit.  "  Let  us  pray  in  our  hearts. 
I've  been  doing  that  already,  and  I'm  sure  so  have  you. 
Something  else  should  be  done  now — another  effort  made 
— this  time  with  money  ;  no  matter  how  much  it  takes, 


THE   FREE    LANCES, 

"  I  want  to  act,"  rejoined  the  other,  as  she  forsook  the 
kneeling  posture,  with  an  abruptness  not  common  to 
devotees  ;  "  only  tell  me  how.  Can  you  ?  " 

For  some  seconds  the  Condesa  let  the  question  remain 
unanswered.  Once  more  her  hand  had  gone  up  to  her 
head,  the  jewelled  fingers  met  and  clasped  upon  her  brow 
— this  time  to  quicken  reflection ;  some  scheme,  already 
half  conceived,  needing  further  elaboration. 

Whatever  the  plan,  it  was  soon  worked  out  complete,  as 
evinced  by  her  words  following. 

"Amiga  mia ;  is  there  in  your  service  one  we  can  im- 
plicitly trust  ? " 

"  Josd.     You  know  we  can  trust  him." 

"True.  But  he  won't  do  for  the  first  step  to  be  taken  • 
which  is,  indeed,  only  to  deliver  a  letter.  But  it  needs  being 
adroitly  done,  and  a  woman  will  be  the  better  for  that 
Besides,  Jose"  will  be  wanted  for  something  else,  at  the 
same  time.  There  are  two  or  three  of  my  own  female 
following  could  be  relied  on,  so  far  as  fidelity  is  concerned  ; 
but,  unluckily,  they're  all  known  on  the  Calle  de  Plateros, 
as  well  as  the  street  itself;  and  there  isn't  any  of  them 
particularly  intelligent  or  dexterous.  What  we  stand  in 
need  of  now  is  one  possessed  of  both  these  qualities — either 
woman  or  girl." 

"  Would  Pepita  do  ?  " 

"  You  mean  the  little  mestizo,  who  was  with  you  at  New 
Orleans  ? " 

"  The  same.    She's  all  that ;  and,  besides,  devoted  to  me." 

Don  Ignacio's  daughter  had  reason  to  know  this,  from 
experience  in  the  Casa  de  Calvo,  in  which  Pepita  had 
played  a  part 

"She'll  do,"  said  the  Countess;  "the  very  individual, 
from  what  I've  seen  of  her.  Get  me  pen,  ink,  and  paper—* 
quick  1  At  the  same  time  summon  Pepita  !  " 


A   MYSTERIOUS   MISSIVE.  133 

The  Countess  was  now  all  action  ;  and,  responding  to 
her  roused  energies,  the  other  rushed  towards  the  bell-pull, 
and  gave  it  two  or  three  vigorous  jerks. 

As  it  chanced,  there  were  writing  materials  in  the  room  ; 
and,  while  waiting  for  the  bell  to  be  answered,  the  Countess 
made  \ise  of  them,  hastily  scribbling  some  words  on  a  sheet 
of  paper,  which  she  folded  without  putting  into  an  enve- 
lope ;  instead,  twisted  it  between  her  finger,  as  if  dissatisfied 
with  what  she  had  written,  and  designed  cancelling  it.  Far 
from  this  her  intention,  as  was  soon  made  manifest. 

"  Muchacha  !  "  she  said  to  Pepita,  who,  being  lady's  maid, 
had  answered  the  bell  herself.  "  Your  mistress  tells  me  you 
can  be  trusted  on  a  matter  which  calls  not  only  for  confi- 
dence, but  cleverness.  Is  that  so  ?  " 

"  I  can't  promise  the  cleverness,  your  ladyship  ;  but  for 
the  other,  I  think  the  Dona  Luisa  knows  she  can  rely  on 
me." 

"  You'd  be  good  at  delivering  a  letter,  without  letting  all 
the  world  into  the  secret,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  I'll  do  my  best,  your  ladyship,  if  Duena  command  it." 

"  Yes,  I  wish  it,  Pepita,"  interposed  Dona  Luisa,  herself 
the  "  Duena." 

"  Muy  bien  Senorita.  Into  whose  hands  is  it  to  be 
put  ? " 

Though  speaking  direct  to  her  own  mistress,  the  inter- 
rogatory was  more  meant  for  the  Condesa,  between  whose 
fingers  and  thumb  she  saw  the  thing  she  was  to  take  charge 
of. 

The  answer  to  her  query  called  for  some  consideration. 
The  note  was  for  Ruperto  Rivas ;  but  the  girl  knew  him 
not ;  so  how  could  she  give  it  him  ? 

Here  was  a  difficulty  not  before  thought  of,  for  a  time 
perplexing  both  the  ladies.  In  this  case  Dona  Luisa 
was  the  first  to  see  a  way  out  of  it,  saying  in  a  whisper  5 — 


134  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

"  Let  her  give  it  to  Florencio  ;  she  knows  him,  and  he 
can " 

"  Carramba ! "  exclaimed  the  Countess  interrupting. 
"  How  wonderfully  wise  you  are,  amiga  I  The  very 
thing !  And  it  never  occurred  to  me  1  No,  you  tell  her 
what  to  do." 

"  This,  Pepita,"  said  her  mistress,  taking  the  crumpled 
sheet  from  the  Condesa,  and  passing  it  to  her  maid,  "  this 
is  to  be  delivered  to  a  gentleman  you've  seen,  and  should 
know." 

"  Where  have  I  seen  him,  senorita  ?  * 

M  In  New  Orleans." 

"  Do  you  mean  Don  Carlos,  my  lady  ?  w 

"  No ; "  the  abrupt  negative  accompanied  with  a  dis- 
satisfied look. 

"  Who  then,  senorita  ?  M 

"  Don  Florencio." 

"  Ay  Dios  I  Is  he  here  ?  I  did  not  know  it  But  where 
am  I  to  find  him  ? " 

No  need  to  repeat  the  dialogue  as  continued.  Suffice  it 
that,  before  leaving  the  room,  Pepita  received  full  instruc- 
tions where  to  find  Don  Florencio,  and  when  found  what 
she  was  to  do  and  say  to  him. 

So  far  all  this  was  easy  enough.  More  difficult  the 
commission  to  be  entrusted  to  Jose* — more  dangerous  too. 
But  it  was  made  known  to  him  in  less  than  twenty  minutes 
after  ;  receiving  his  ready  assent  to  its  execution — though 
it  should  cost  him  his  life,  as  he  said.  One  motive  for  his 
agreeing  to  undergo  the  danger  was  devotion  to  his  young 
mistress ;  another  to  stand  well  with  Pepita,  who  had  a 
power  over  him,  and  as  he  knew  had  entered  upon  her 
part  with  an  ardent  alacrity.  But  there  was  a  third 
stimulus  to  keep  up  his  courage,  should  it  feel  like  failing 
— this  having  to  do  with  the  Condesa.  Drawing  out  her 


A   MYSTERIOUS   MISSIVE.  135 

grand  gold  watch — good  value  for  a  hundred  dollores,  and 
holding  it  up  before  his  eyes,  she  said  : 

"  That's  your  reward,  Josd ;  that  or  its  worth  in 
money." 

No  need  saying  more.  For  the  commission  he  was  to 
execute  much  preparation  was  to  be  made,  in  all  haste  too, 
And  in  all  haste  he  set  to  making  it — determined  to  win 
the  watch. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 
THE   PLAY   OF    EYES. 

THE  ceremony  of  laying  the  foundation-stone  had  been  brief, 
and  it  was  yet  only  an  early  hour  of  the  afternoon  when 
the  procession  passed  back  along  the  Calle  de  Plateros. 
The  scavengers  were  still  at  work,  and  it  is  scarcely  neces- 
sary to  say  that  two  of  their  number  were  earnestly  on  the 
look-out  for  a  certain  carriage.  Sorry  plight  as  they  were 
in,  neither  felt  ashamed  or  reluctant  to  come  again  under 
those  eyes,  after  the  expression  they  had  observed  in  them. 
Rivas  had  hopes  that  in  another  exchange  of  glances  with 
the  Condesa,  he  might  see  something  still  further  to  instruct 
him ;  while  Kearney,  not  so  confident  about  his  inter- 
pretation of  those  given  to  himself,  longed  to  have  a 
second  reading  of  them. 

Nor  was  he  disappointed.  The  procession  returned 
sooner  than  they  expected,  the  looked-for  carriage  still  hold- 
ing its  place  in  the  line  ;  the  ladies  in  it,  but  now  no  officer 
of  Hussars,  nor  any  other,  riding  alongside.  Santander,  an 
aide-de-camp  as  known,  had  likely  been  ordered  off  on 
some  official  errand,  and  likely,  too,  his  chief  did  not  relish 
seeing  him  so  near  that  particular  equipage.  Whatever 
the  cause,  his  absence  gave  gratification  to  the  two  men 
noting  it.  With  less  constraint  glances  might  now  be  ex- 
changed— even  gestures. 

And  both  were.  The  look  Kearney  had  given  to  him 
was  accompanied  by  a  nod  of  recognition  ;  slight  and 
timid,  for  it  could  not  well  be  otherwise  under  the  circum- 

136 


THE   PLAY   OF   EYES.  1 37 

stances.  But  the  eyes  spoke  more  eloquently,  telling  him 
of  respect  undiminished,  faith  that  had  never  faltered, 
love  strong  and  true  as  ever.  If  he  read  pity  in  them  too, 
it  was  not  such  as  he  would  now  spurn. 

To  Rivas  were  accorded  signs  of  a  very  different  sort. 
He  had  them  not  only  from  eyes,  but  the  movement  of  a 
fan  and  fingers.  They  seemed  satisfactory  to  him  ;  for  as 
the  carriage  passed  out  of  sight,  he  turned  to  the  other 
and  said  in  a  cheerful  whisper : 

K  Keep  up  heart,  camarado !  I  perceive  you're  not  un- 
known to  a  friend  of  my  friend.  You  heard  the  brute  of 
a  gaol-governor  taunt  me  about  a  certain  Condesa  ? " 

"  I  did." 

"  Well ;  that's  the  lady,  alongside  her  who's  just  been 
making  eyes  at  you.  An  old  acquaintance  of  yours,  I  see; 
and  I  think  I  could  say  where  it  was  commenced.  Never 
mind  about  that  now.  Enough  for  you  to  know  that  if 
friendship  can  get  us  out  of  this  fix,  with  gold  to  back  it, 
we  may  yet  have  a  chance  of  giving  leg-bail  to  the  turn- 
keys of  the  Acordada." 

Their  dialogue  was  terminated  by  Dominguez,  who, 
temporarily  absent  for  a  swill  at  one  of  the  neighbouring 
pulquerias%  now  returned  to  the  superintendence  of  his 
charge,  and  roughly  commanded  them  to  resume  their 
work. 


For  nearly  another  hour  the  work  went  on,  though  not 
so  regularly  as  before.  The  stream  of  returning  sightseers 
still  lined  the  footwalks,  many  of  them  showing  by  their 
behaviour  they  had  been  paying  a  visit  to  pulquerias  too, 
and  more  than  once.  Some  stopped  to  fraternise  with  the 
soldiers,  and  would  have  done  likewise  with  the  forzados. 
if  permitted.  They  were  not  hindered,  however,  from 


138  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

holding  converse  with  the  former,  and  extending  hos- 
pitality to  them  in  the  shape  of  treats  ;  sentry  after  sentry 
stealing  away  from  his  post  after  the  proffered  and  coveted 
toothful.  Nor  was  Dominguez  an  exception,  he  too  every 
now  and  then  repeating  his  visit  to  the  dram-shop. 

All  this  gave  the  scavengers  license  of  speech,  with  some 
liberty  of  action,  or  rather  rest  from  their  disagreeable 
task.  And  in  the  interval,  while  they  were  thus  idling, 
the  young  Irishman  noticed  that  the  eyes  of  his  chain  com- 
panion were  kept  continuously  on  the  footwalks,  now  on 
one  side  now  the  other,  his  face  towards  the  Plaza  Grande — 
as  though  he  expected  to  see  some  one  coming  that  way. 
Kearney  himself  was  regarding  the  people  who  came  along 
— but  only  from  curiosity — when  his  attention  was  more 
particularly  drawn  to  one  who  had  come  to  a  stop  on 
the  sidewalk  nearly  opposite.  This  was  a  girl  of  rather 
diminutive  stature,  dressed  in  the  ordinary  fashion  of  the 
common  people,  short-skirted  petticoat,  sleeveless  camisa, 
arms,  ankles,  and  feet  bare  ;  but  the  head,  breast,  and 
shoulders  all  under  one  covering — the  reboso.  Even  her 
face  was  hidden  by  this,  for  she  was  wearing  it  "  tapado," 
one  eye  only  visible,  through  a  little  loop  in  the  folded 
scarf,  which  was  kept  open  by  the  hand  that  held  it.  The 
girl  had  drawn  up  in  front  of  a  jeweller's  window,  as 
though  to  feast  that  eye  on  the  pretty  things  therein  dis- 
played. And  thus  Kearney  would  not  have  noticed  her,  any 
more  than  the  others,  many  of  them  in  like  garb  passing 
to  and  fro.  But,  just  as  his  eye  happened  to  light  upon 
her,  he  saw  that  hers — literally  a  single  one — was  fixed  upon 
him,  regarding  him  in  a  way  altogether  different  from  that 
which  might  be  expected  on  the  part  of  a  chance  stranger. 
Her  attitude,  too,  was  odd.  Though  facing  nearly  square 
to  the  shop  window,  and  pretending  to  look  into  it,  her 
head  was  slightly  turned,  and  the  eye  surely  on  him. 


THE   PLAY   OF   EYES.  139 

At  first  he  was  puzzled  to  make  out  what  it  could  mean, 
and  why  the  girl  should  be  taking  such  an  interest  in  him. 
Possibly,  had  she  been  wearing  shoes  and  stockings,  he 
might  have  come  easier  to  the  comprehension  of  it.  But 
a  little  brown-skinned,  barefooted  muchacha*  in  a  petticoat 
of  common  stuff,  and  cheap  scarf  over  her  shoulders,  he 
could  think  of  no  reason  why  she  should  have  aught  to  do 
with  him. 

Only  for  a  few  seconds,  however,  was  he  thus  in  the 
dark.  Then  all  became  clear,  the  tclaircissement  giving 
him  a  start,  and  sending  the  blood  in  quick  rush  through 
his  veins — pleasant  withal.  For  the  girl,  seeing  she  had 
caught  his  attention,  relaxed  her  clasp  upon  the  scarf, 
partially  exposing  her  face,  and  the  other  eye. 

Kearney  needed  not  seeing  the  whole  of  it  for  recogni- 
tion now.  Well  remembered  he  those  features — pretty  in 
spite  of  the  dark  skin — he  had  often  seen  wreathed  with 
pleasant  smiles,  as  their  owner  used  to  open  the  door  for 
him  in  the  Casa  de  Calvo. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 
A  LETTER  DEXTEROUSLY  DELIVERED. 

PEPITA  it  was,  though  in  a  different  style  of  dress  to  what 
he  had  been  accustomed  to  see  her  in  ;  as  at  New  Orleans 
she  had  not  kept  to  her  national  costume.  Besides,  there 
was  a  soup$on  of  shabbiness  about  her  present  attire,  and 
then  the  shoeless  feet ! 

"  Dismissed  the  Valverde  service — out  of  a  situation — 
poor  girl !  " 

He  would  not  have  so  pityingly  reflected,  had  he  seen 
her  as  she  was  but  a  short  half-hour  before,  in  a  pretty 
muslin  dress,  snow-white  stockings,  and  blue  satin  slippers. 
Since  then  she  had  made  a  change  in  her  toilet  under 
direction  and  by  help  of  the  Condesa,  who  had  attired 
her  in  a  way  more  befitting  the  task  intended. 

Kearney,  in  full  belief  of  her  being  a  discharged  servant, 
remembering  her  many  little  kindnesses  to  himself  in  the 
Casa  de  Calvo,  was  about  to  call  her  up,  and  speak  a  word 
of  sympathy  for  old  time's  sake.  Dominguez  was  still 
absent,  and  the  nearest  sentry  engaged  in  a  chaffing 
encounter  with  some  one  in  the  crowd. 

Just  then  he  observed  a  slight  tremour  of  her  head,  and 
with  a  sudden  movement  of  the  hand  which  seemed  to 
say,  "  No,  don't  speak  to  me."  She,  too,  could  talk  that 
mute  language,  so  well  understood  in  her  country. 

So  restrained,  he  kept  silent ;  to  see  her  now  glance 
furtively  around,  as  if  to  make  sure  no  one  else  was 
observing  her.  She  had  again  closed  the  scarf  over  her 

140 


A   LETTER   DEXTEROUSLY   DELIVERED.  14! 

race,  but  in  the  hand  that  held  it  under  her  chin  some- 
thing white — a  piece  of  paper  he  supposed — appeared  ; 
just  for  one  instant,  then  drawn  under.  Another  sig- 
nificant look  accompanied  this  gesture,  saying  plain  as 
word  could  speak  it : — 

"  You  see  what  I've  got  for  you  ;  leave  the  action  all  to 
me." 

He  did,  for  he  could  not  do  otherwise ;  he  was  fixed  to 
this  spot,  she  foot  free.  And  the  use  she  now  made  of  this 
freedom  was  to  walk  straight  out  into  the  street,  though  not 
as  coming  to  him  ;  instead,  her  steps,  as  her  eyes  were 
directed  towards  Cris  Rock  and  the  hunchback,  who  were 
at  work  some  paces  further  on.  She  seemed  bent  on 
making  a  closer  inspection  of  the  odd  pair,  nor  would  any 
one  suppose  she  had  other  object  in  crossing  over  to  them 

No  one  did,  save  Kearney  himself.  Rivas  had  been 
again  ordered  into  the  sewer,  and  was  at  work  in  it 
Besides,  he  did  not  know  Pepita,  though  he  was  the  one 
she  most  wished  to  be  near.  Chiefly  for  him  was  the 
communication  she  had  to  make. 

It  could  not  be,  however,  without  a  demonstration  likely 
to  be  observed,  therefore  dangerous.  But  her  wit  was  equal 
to  the  occasion,  proving  how  well  the  ladies  had  chosen 
their  letter-carrier. 

"Ay  Diosl"  she  exclaimed  aloud,  brushing  past  the 
young  Irishman,  and  stopping  with  her  eyes  bent  wonder- 
ingly  on  the  strangely  contrasted  couple  ;  then  aside  in  sotto 
voce  to  Kearney,  whom  she  had  managed  to  place  close 
behind  her,  apparently  unconscious  of  his  being  there — 
"  A  billetita.)  Don  Florencio — not  for  you — for  the  Sefior 
Rivas — you  can  give  it  him — I  daren't.  Try  to  take  it 
out  of  my  hand  without  being  seen."  Then  once  more 
aloud.  "  Gigante  y  enano  /"  just  as  others  had  said,  "  Rue 
$psa  estrgnja  1 "  (what  a  strange  thing). 


142  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

She  need  not  say  any  more,  nor  stay  there  any  longer 
For  while  she  was  speaking  the  crumpled  sheet  had  passed 
through  the  fringe  of  the  scarf,  out  of  her  fingers  into 
those  of  Don  Florencio,  who  had  bent  him  to  his  work 
bringing  his  hand  to  the  right  place  for  the  transfer. 

Her  errand,  thus  vicariously  accomplished  with  another 
wondering  look  at  the  giant  and  dwarf,  and  another  "Ay, 
Dios  !  "  she  turned  to  go  back  to  the  side  walk.  But  be- 
fore passing  Kearney  she  managed  to  say  something  more 
to  him. 

"  Carriage  will  come  along  soon — two  ladies  in  it — one 
you  know — one  dear  to  you  as  you  to  her." 

Sweet  words  to  him,  though  muttered,  and  he  thanked 
her  who  spoke  them — in  his  heart.  He  dared  not  speak 
his  thanks,  even  in  whisper ;  she  was  already  too  far  off, 
tripping  back  to  the  flagged  footwalk,  along  which  she 
turned,  soon  to  disappear  from  his  sight 

What  she  had  said  about  the  coming  of  a  carriage  was 
to  Kearney  not  altogether  intelligible.  But,  no  doubt, 
the  note,  now  concealed  inside  his  shirt  bosom  would  clear 
that  up  ;  and  the  next  step  was  to  hand  it  over  to  him  for 
whom  it  was  intended. 

Luckily,  Rivas  had  not  been  unobservant  of  what  was 
going  on  between  the  girl  and  his  companion.  Her  look 
seeming  strange  to  himrhad  attracted  his  attention,  and 
though  keeping  steadily  at  work,  his  eyes  were  not  on  it,  but 
on  them,  which  resulted  in  his  witnessing  the  latter  part 
of  the  little  episode,  and  having  more  than  a  suspicion 
it  also  concerned  himself.  He  was  not  taken  by  surprise, 
therefore,  when  Kearney,  drawing  closer  to  the  edge  qf  the 
drain,  spoke  down  to  him  in  a  half-whisper — 

"  I've  got  something  for  you.  Bring  the  point  of  your 
tool  against  mine,  and  look  out  when  you  feel  my  fingers." 

"  Muy  bien  I  I  understand,"  was  the  muttered  response. 


A   LETTER   DEXTEROUSLY   DELIVERED.  143 

In  a  second  or  two  after  the  shafts  of  their  implements 
came  into  collision  accidentally,  it  appeared.  He  would 
indeed  have  been  sharp-witted  who  could  have  supposed 
it  intentional,  and  lynx-eyed  to  have  seen  that  scrap  of 
twisted  paper  passed  from  one  to  the  other — the  second 
transfer  dexterously  done  as  the  first  All  any  one  could 
have  told  was,  that  the  two  scavengers  seemed  sorry  for 
what  had  occurred,  made  mutual  apologies,  then  separated 
to  the  full  length  of  their  coupling  chain,  and  went  to 
work  again,  looking  meek  and  innocent  as  lambs. 

It  was  now  Rivas'  turn  to  prove  himself  possessed  of  quick 
wit.  He  had  reason  to  think  the  letter  required  immediate 
reading ;  and  how  was  this  to  be  done  ?  To  be  seen  at 
it  would  surely  bring  the  sentries  upon  him,  even  though 
Dominguez  was  not  there.  And  for  them  to  get  possession 
of  it — that  was  a  calamity  perhaps  worst  of  all !  Possibly 
to  compromise  the  writer ;  and  well  knew  he  who  that 
was. 

For  a  time  he  was  perplexed,  looking  in  all  directions, 
und  thinking  of  every  way  possible  for  him  to  read  the 
letter  unobserved.  But  none  did  seem  possible.  He 
could  stoop  down,  so  as  to  be  unseen  by  those  passing 
along  the  sidewalk ;  but  close  to  the  sewer's  edge  were 
two  or  three  of  the  sentries,  who  would  still  command 
view  of  him. 

All  at  once  a  look  of  satisfaction  came  over  his  counte- 
n*nce,  as  his  eyes  rested  on  a  side  drain,  which  entered  the 
main  one,  like  many  others,  from  adjacent  dwellings.  He 
hdd  just  scraped  the  mud  out  of  its  mouth,  and  was  close 
to  it^ 

The  very  thing,  was  his  thought — the  very  place  for  his 
purpose.  And  shortly  after  he  might  have  been  seen 
standing  before  it,  in  bent  attitude,  his  arms  busy  with  his 
shovel,  but  his  eyes  and  thoughts  busier  with  a  sheet  of 


144  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

paper  which  lay  at  the  bottom  of  the  branch  drain,  some 
two  or  three  feet  inside  it.  It  was  the  billetita,  and  though 
the  creases  were  but  hastily  pressed  out,  he  contrived  to 
make  himself  master  of  its  contents.  They  were  but  brief 
and  legibly  written — the  script  familiar  to  him. 

"  QUERIDO, — Soon  after  receiving  this— say,  half  an  hou 
— look  for  a  carriage — landau  shut  up — two  ladies  inside- 
pair  of  large  horses— -frisones—  grey.  When  opposite,  be 
ready — with  him  who  shares  your  chain.  Leave  manners 
in  the  mud — make  a  rush,  storm  the  carriage,  eject  the 
occupants  rudely — violently — and  take  their  places.  You 
can  trust  the  cocluro.  Some  danger  in  the  attempt,  I 
know ;  but  more  if  not  made.  Your  old  enemy  im- 
placable— determined  to  have  your  life.  Do  this,  dearest, 
and  save  it — for  your  country's  sake,  as  also  that  of 

"  YSABEL." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 
LOOKING  OUT  FOR  A  LANDAU. 

FROM  the  way  Rivas  treated  the  "  billetita "  after  he  had 
finished  reading  it,  one  unacquainted  with  its  contents 
might  have  supposed  they  had  made  him  either  mad 
angry,  or  madly  jealous.  Instead  of  taking  it  up  tenderly, 
and  treasuring  it  away,  he  planted  his  muddy  boot  upon 
it,  with  a  back  scrape  brought  it  into  the  main  sewer,  still 
keeping  it  under  the  mud  and  trampling  it  with  both  feet, 
lifted  and  set  down  alternately,  the  while  shovelling  away, 
as  though  he  had  forgotten  all  about  it.  Not  so,  however. 
The  tread-mill  action  was  neither  accidental  nor  involun- 
tary, but  for  a  purpose.  The  writer  had  committed  herself 
in  subsigning  a  portion  of  her  name,  as  by  other  particulars, 
and  should  the  letter  fall  into  hands  he  knew  of,  her 
danger  would  be  as  great  as  his  own. 

In  a  few  seconds,  however,  any  uneasiness  about  this 
was  at  an  end.  The  most  curious  chiffonier  could  not 
have  deciphered  a  word  written  on  that  sheet,  which  by 
the  churning  he  had  submitted  it  to  must  have  been 
reduced  to  a  very  pulp. 

During  all  this  time  no  one  had  taken  notice  of  his 
proceedings,  not  even  the  man  chained  to  him,  except 
by  an  occasional  side  glance.  For  Kearney,  well  aware 
of  what  he  was  at,  to  draw  attention  from  him  had  got 
up  a  wordy  demonstration  with  the  dwarf — to  all  appear- 
ance a  quarrel.  There  was  real  anger  on  the  side  of  the 
latter  ;  for  the  "  gringo,"  as  he  contemptuously  called  the 

141  , 


146  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

Irishman,  had  cruelly  mocked  his  deformity.  A  cruelty 
which  gave  pain  to  the  mocker  himself;  but  he  could 
think  of  no  other  way  to  secure  inattention  to  Rivas,  and 
this  efficiently  did.  Both  talking  the  tongue  of  the 
country,  their  war  of  words,  with  some  grotesque  gestures 
which  Kearney  affected,  engrossed  the  attention  of  all 
within  sight  or  hearing  ;  so  that  not  an  eye  was  left  for 
the  surreptitious  reader  of  the  letter. 

When  the  sham  quarrel  came  to  an  end — which  it  did 
soon  as  he  who  commenced  it  saw  it  should — the  knot  of 
spectators  it  had  drawn  around  dispersed,  leaving  things 
as  before.  But  not  as  before  felt  Rivas  and  Kearney. 
Very  different  now  the  thoughts  stirring  within  them,  both 
trying  to  appear  calm  while  under  the  greatest  agitation. 
For  they  had  again  contrived  to  bring  their  ears  together, 
and  the  latter  now  knew  all  about  the  contents  of  the 
Condesa's  letter,  their  purport  being  fully  explained,  nor 
did  they  draw  apart,  till  a  thorough  understanding  had 
been  established  between  them  as  to  the  action  they  should 
take. 

All  this  without  loss  of  time  was  translated  to  Cris  Rock, 
who  was  told  also  of  their  resolve  to  attempt  to  escape,  in 
which  the  Texan  was  but  too  glad  to  take  part.  Kearney 
would  have  stayed  there,  and  gone  back  into  the  Acordada, 
loathsome  gaol  though  it  was,  sooner  than  leave  his  old 
filibustering  comrade  behind.  He  could  never  forget  the 
incident  of  El  Salado,  nor  cease  to  feel  gratitude  to  the 
man  who  had  offered  to  give  up  life  for  him. 

But  there  was  no  need  for  Rock  being  left  behind. 
Rivas  himself  wished  it  otherwise,  for  more  than  one 
reason ;  but  one  good  one,  that  instead  of  obstructing 
their  escape  he  would  be  an  aid  to  it 

The  hunchback  alone  was  not  let  into  their  secret.  No 
doubt  he  too  would  be  glad  to  get  free  from  his  chains, 


LOOKING   OUT    FOR   A    LANDAU.  147 

since  he  was  under  a  sentence  of  imprisonment  for  life.  But 
who  could  tell  whether  at  the  last  moment  he  might  not  pur- 
chase pardon  by  turning  out  and  betraying  them  ?  They 
knew  him  to  be  vile  enough  even  for  that,  and  so  kept  him 
in  the  dark  about  their  design. 

There  was  no  need  of  further  premeditation  or  contriv- 
ance of  plans.  That  had  all  been  traced  out  for  them  in 
the  singular  epistle  signed  "  Ysabel,"  and  a  few  whispered 
words  from  one  to  the  other  completed  the  understanding 
of  it,  with  what  was  to  be  done.  From  the  time  this  was 
settled  out,  never  looked  three  pair  of  eyes  more  eagerly 
along  a  street  than  did  theirs  along  the  Calle  de  Plateros  ; 
never  was  a  carriage  more  anxiously  awaited  than  a  landau 
which  should  show  itself  with  hood  up,  drawn  by  a  pair  of 

grey  horses. 

*  #  *  *  »  ft 

It  is  now  well  on  the  afternoon,  and  the  "  beauty  and 
fashion "  of  the  Mexican  metropolis  were  beginning  to 
appear  in  carriages,  with  chivalry  on  horseback,  along  the 
line  of  streets  leading  to  the  Paseo  Nuevo.  The  procession 
of  the  morning  would  little  affect  the  usual  evening  dis- 
play ;  and  already  several  equipages  had  rolled  past  the 
place  where  the  chain-gang  was  at  work.  But  as  yet 
appeared  not  the  one  so  anxiously  looked  for,  and  the  half- 
hour  was  up ! 

Still  ten  minutes  more  without  any  sign  of  it ! 

More  anxious  now  were  the  three  prisoners,  who  con- 
templated escape,  though  not  at  all  to  the  same  degree,  or 
for  the  same  reason.  Kearney  feared  there  had  been  a 
failure,  from  betrayal  by  the  coachman  spoken  of  as  so 
trustworthy  ;  he  did  not  think  of  suspecting  Pepita.  The 
Texan,  too,  believed  some  hitch  had  occurred,  a  "  bit  o* 
crooked  luck,"  as  he  worded  it.  Not  so  Rivas.  Though, 
as  the  others,  chafing  at  the  delay,  he  still  had  confidence 


148  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

in  the  carriage  coming,  as  he  had  in  the  directing  head  of 
one  he  expected  to  see  inside  it.  It  was  being  purposely 
kept  back,  he  fancied  ;  likely  as  not,  lest  it  might  attract 
attention  by  being  too  early  on  the  street. 

Whatever  the  cause,. his  conjectures  were  soon  brought 
to  an  end — and  abruptly — by  seeing  the  thing  itself. 

"  Bueno  !  "  he  mentally  exclaimed,  then  muttering  to  the 
others — "Yonder  it  comes!  Frisones  pardes  coachman  in 
sky  blue  and  silver — be  ready  camarados? 

And  ready  they  were,  as  panthers  preparing  to  spring. 
Reck  and  Rivas,  as  Kearney  himself,  were  now  out  of  the 
sewer  and  up  on  the  street ;  all  three  still  making  believe  to 
work  ;  while  the  dwarf  seemed  to  suspect  there  was  some- 
thing in  the  wind,  but  could  not  guess  what. 

He  knew  the  instant  after,  when  a  strong  hand,  grasping 
him  by  the  collar,  lifted  him  off  his  feet,  raising  and  tossing 
him  further  aloft,  as  though  he  had  been  but  a  rat 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 
A   CLUMSY    COCHERO. 

PERHAPS  no  people  in  the  world  have  been  more  accus- 
tomed to  spectacular  surprises  than  they  who  perambulate 
the  streets  of  the  Mexican  metropolis.  For  the  half- 
century  preceding  the  time  of  which  I  write,  they  had 
witnessed  almost  as  many  revolutions  as  years,  seen  blood 
spilled  till  the  stones  ran  red  with  it,  and  dead  bodies 
lying  before  their  doors  often  for  hours,  even  days,  unre- 
moved.  As  a  consequence,  they  are  less  prone  to  curiosity 
than  the  dwellers  in  European  cities,  and  the  spectacle  or 
incident  that  will  stir  their  interest  in  any  great  degree 
must  needs  be  of  ^ri  uncommon  kind. 

Rare  enough  was  that  they  were  called  on  to  witness 
now — such  of  them  as  chanced  to  be  sauntering  along  the 
Calle  de  Plateros,  where  the  chain-gang  was  at  work. 
They  first  saw  a  carriage — a  handsome  equipage  of  the 
landau  speciality — drawn  by  a  pair  of  showy  horses,  and 
driven  by  a  coachman  in  smart  livery,  his  hat  cockaded, 
proclaiming  the  owner  of  the  turn-out  as  belonging  to  the 
military  or  diplomatic  service.  Only  ladies,  however,  were 
in  it — two  of  them — and  the  horses  proceeding  at  a  rather 
leisurely  pace.  As  several  other  carriages  with  ladies  in 
them,  and  liveried  coachmen  on  the  boxes,  had  passed 
before,  and  some  seen  coming  behind,  there  was  nothing 
about  this  one  to  attract  particular  attention  ;  unless, 
indeed,  the  beauty  of  the  two  "  senoritas  "  inside,  which  was 

149 


I5O  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

certainly  exceptional.  Both  were  young,  and,  if  related, 
not  likely  to  be  sisters  ;  in  contour  of  features,  complexion, 
colour  of  eyes  and  hair,  everything  different,  even  to  con- 
trast. But  alike  in  that  each  after  her  own  style  was  a  pic- 
ture of  feminine  loveliness  of  the  most  piquantly  attractive 
kind  ;  while  their  juxtaposition  made  it  all  the  more  so, 
for  they  were  seated  side  by  side. 

Such  could  not  fail  to  draw  the  eyes  of  the  street 
passengers  upon  them,  and  elicit  looks  of  admiration.  So 
far  from  courting  this,  however,  they  seemed  desirous  of 
shunning  it.  The  day  was  one  of  the  finest,  the  atmosphere 
deliciously  enjoyable,  neither  too  warm  nor  too  cold;  other 
carriages  were  open,  yet  the  hoods  of  theirs  met  overhead, 
and  the  glasses  were  up.  Still,  as  these  were  not  curtained 
they  could  be  seen  through  them.  Some  saw  who  knew 
them,  and  saluted ;  gentlemen  by  raising  the  hat,  lady 
acquaintances  by  a  nod,  a  quivering  of  the  fingers.  For 
it  was  the  hour  of  promenade  to  the  Alameda.  Others  to 
whom  they  were  unknown  inquired  whose  carnage  it  was. 
But  not  a  few  noticed  in  the  faces  of  its  fair  occupants  an 
expression  which  struck  them  as  singular ;  something  of 
constraint  or  anxiety — the  last  so  unlike  what  should  ha^e 
been  there. 

And  so  all  along  the  line  of  street,  until  the  carriage 
came  nearly  opposite  the  entrance  gate  of  the  Alameda, 
still  going  slowly ;  at  which  the  pampered,  high-spirited 
horses  seemed  to  chafe  and  fret.  Just  then,  however,  they 
showed  a  determination  to  change  the  pace,  or  at  all  events 
the  direction,  by  making  a  sudden  start  and  shy  to  the 
right ;  which  carried  the  off  wheels  nearly  nave-deep  into 
the  ridge  of  mud  recently  thrown  out  of  the  sewer. 

Instinctively,  or  mechanically,  the  coachman  pulled  uj., 
No  one  could  suppose  designedly;  since  there  was  sufficient 
likelihood  of  his  having  an  overturn.  Still,  as  the  mud  was 


A    CLUMSY    COCHERO.  I$l 

soft,  by  bearing  on  the  near  rein,  with  a  sharp  cut  of  the 
whip,  he  might  easily  clear  the  obstruction. 

This  was  not  done ;  and  the  spectators  wondered  why  it 
was  not.  They  had  already  made  up  their  minds  that  the 
balk  was  due  to  the  coachman's  maladroit  driving,  and 
this  farther  proof  of  his  stupidity  quite  exhausted  their 
patience.  Shouts  assailed  him  from  all  sides,  jeers,  and 
angry  ejaculations. 

"  Burro  I "  (donkey)  exclaimed  one  ;  a  second  crying  out, 
"  What  a  clumsy  cochero  /  "  a  third,  "  You're  a  nice  fellow 
to  be  trusted  with  reins !  A  rope  tied  to  a  pig's  tail  would 
better  become  you  ?  " 

Other  like  shafts,  equally  envenomed,  were  hurled  at 
Josd's  head ;  for  it  scarce  needs  telling  that  he  was  the 
driver  of  the  carriage,  and  the  ladies  inside  it  his  mistress 
and  the  Condesa  Almonte*.  For  all  he  seemed  but  little  to 
regard  what  was  being  said  to  him — indeed  nothing, 
having  enough  on  hand  with  his  restive  horses.  But  why 
did  he  not  rgive  them  the  whip,  and  let  them  have  more 
rein !  It  looked  as  if  that  would  start  them  off  all  right 
again,  and  that  was  what  every  one  was  shouting  to  him 
to  do,  he  instead  doing  the  very  opposite,  holding  the 
animals  in  till  they  commenced  plunging. 

The  ladies  looked  sorely  affrighted  ;  they  had  from  the 
first,  for  it  was  all  but  the  occurrence  of  an  instant.  Both  had 
risen  to  their  feet,  one  tugging  at  the  strap  to  get  the  sash 
down,  the  other  working  at  the  handle  of  the  door,  which 
perversely  refused  to  act,  all  the  while  uttering  cries  of 
alarm. 

Several  of  the  passengers  rushed  to  the  door  in  the  near 
side  to  assist  them,  that  on  the  off  being  unapproachable 
by  reason  of  the  open  drain.  But  on  this  also  appeared 
rescuers — a  pair  of  them — not  street  promenaders,  but  two 
of  the  chain-gang !  All  muddy  as  these  were,  they  were 


152  THE   FREE    LANCES. 

advancing  with  as  much  apparent  eagerness  as  the  others 
— more  in  reality — to  release  the  imperilled  senoritas.  A 
proof  that  humanity  may  exist  even  in  the  breast  of  a  gaol- 
bird ;  and  the  spectators,  pleased  with  an  exhibition  of  it, 
so  rare  and  unexpected,  were  preparing  to  applaud  them 
enthusiastically. 

Their  admiration,  however,  received  a  rude  and  almost 
instantaneous  check,  changing  to  wild  astonishment,  suc- 
ceeded by  equally  wild  indignation.  The  forzados  got 
their  door  open  first ;  but  the  ladies,  apparently  terrified  at 
the  rough,  unclean  creatures,  refused  to  go  out  that  way» 
and  only  shrank  back.  Luckily,  the  other  was  by  this  also 
opened,  and  they  made  through  it  into  the  street.  But 
not  before  the  two  scavengers  had  leaped  up  into  the 
carriage  beside  them,  and,  as  if  angry  at  their  earlier  offer 
being  declined,  given  them  a  rude  shove  outward  ! 

That  was  not  all  the  spectators  saw  to  astonish  them. 
Other  incidents  followed  equally  unlocked  for,  and  with 
lightning  rapidity.  One  was  indeed  of  simultaneous 
occurrence;  a  second  couple  of  the  scavengers — \hegigante 
y  enano — rushing  towards  the  coachman's  box,  clambering 
up  to  it,  Rock  flinging  the  dwarf  before  him  as  one  would 
an  old  carpet-bag,  and  mounting  after.  Then,  jerking  the 
leins  and  whip  out  of  Josd's  hands — letting  him  still  keep 
his  seat,  however, — he  loosened  the  one,  and  laid  the  lash 
of  the  other  on  the  horses'  hips,  so  sharply  and  vigorously 
as  to  start  them  at  once  into  a  gallop. 

Meanwhile,  the  uncouth  couple  inside  had  pulled-to  the 
doors,  shutting  themselves  in,  and  taken  the  seats  late 
occupied  by  the  elegantly  dressed  ladies — a  transformation 
so  grotesque  as  to  seem  more  dream  than  reality.  And  so 
off  all  went,  leaving  behind  a  crowd  as  much  amazed  as 
any  that  ever  witnessed  spectacle  on  the  streets  of  the 
Mexican  metropolis. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 
THE  POOR  LADIES. 

QUITE  a  combination  of  circumstances  had  favoured  the 
escape  of  the  four  forzados — the  balking  of  the  horses,  the 
absence  of  Dominguez,  and  the  relaxed  vigilance  of  the 
guards — from  their  brains  bemuddled  with  drink.  But 
there  was  yet  another  lucky  chance  that  stood  them  in 
stead — the  point  from  which  they  had  started.  The  line 
of  sentries  ended  at  the  Alamedas  Gate,  and,  as  the  one 
posted  there  was  he  who  had  them  in  particular  charge, 
once  past  him  they  had  only  to  fear  a  single  bullet  sent 
after  them. 

As  it  turned  out,  they  did  not  even  get  that,  fortune 
favouring  them  in  every  way.  This  sentry,  though  last  on 
the  line  outward,  was  the  first  encountered  by  the  people 
returning  from  the  ceremony  at  San  Corme  ;  therefore 
made  most  of  by  passing  friends,  with  the  bottle  oftener 
presented  to  his  lips.  As  a  consequence,  when  the  carriage 
whirled  past  him  he  had  but  an  indistinct  idea  of  why  it 
was  going  so  fast,  and  none  at  all  as  to  who  were  in  it. 
With  eyes  drowned  in  aguardiente  he  stood  as  one  dazed, 
looking  after,  but  taking  no  measures  to  stop  it.  When  at 
length  some  one  bawled  the  truth  into  his  ear  and  he 
brought  his  flint-lock  to  an  unsteady  level,  it  would  have 
been  too  late — had  the  piece  gone  off.  Luckily  for  those 
on  the  sidewalk,  it  did  not ;  missing  fire  by  a  flash  in  the 
pan,  as  might  have  been  anticipated. 

Never  were  sentries  more  completely  taken  by  surprise 

1S3 


154  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

than  they  guarding  the  chain  gang.  Nor  more  disagree- 
ably. They  knew  they  had  been  neglecting  their  duty, 
and  might  expect  severe  punishment !  possibly  set  at  the 
very  task  they  were  now  superintending !  Still,  they  made 
no  attempt  to  pursue.  They  were  not  cavalry  ;  and  only 
mounted  men  could  overtake  that  landau  with  its  curious 
load,  soon  to  vanish  from  their  sight.  So  they  stood 
gazing  after  it  in  helpless  bewilderment,  their  faces  showing 
a  variety  of  expressions,  surprise,  anger,  fear,  mingled  in 
a  most  ludicrous  manner.  Deserting  their  posts  they  had 
gathered  into  a  knot,  and  it  was  some  time  before  they  had 
so  far  recovered  their  senses  as  to  think  of  despatching  one 
of  their  number  to  the  Plaza  Grande  after  cavalry  sure  to 
be  there. 

It  was  a  fine  opportunity  for  others  of  the  gaol-birds  to 
make  a  bolt ;  but  for  the  obstructive  coupling-chains  no 
doubt  some  would  avail  themselves  of  it.  These,  however, 
hindered  the  attempt.  There  were  no  more  restive  horses, 
nor  blundering  coachmen  to  bring  another  carriage  near 
enough  for  a  rush. 

But  the  most  interesting  group  now  on  the  ground  was 
that  which  had  collected  round  the  ladies  left  carriageless  ; 
some  offering  services,  others  speaking  words  of  sympathy. 
"  Las  senoritas pobres!  "  "  Pobrecitas!  " — ("  The  poor  young 
ladies!"  "Poor  things  !")  were  exclamations  uttered  over 
and  over  again. 

It  was  a  trying  situation  for  the  "  poor  things"  to  be  in, 
sure  enough.  But  they  acquitted  themselves  admirably  ; 
especially  the  Condesa,  who,  young  though  she  was,  for 
courage  and  coolness  had  few  to  equal  her.  In  that  emer- 
gency no  man  could  have  shown  himself  her  superior. 
Ker  look  of  still  untranquillised  terror,  the  intermittent 
flashes  of  anger  in  her  eyes  as  she  loudly  denounced  the 
ruffians  who  had  carried  off  their  carriage,  was  a  piece  of 


THE   POOR   LADIES.  155 

acting  worthy  of  a  Rachel  or  Siddons.  He  would  have 
been  a  keen  physiognomist  who  could  have  told  that  her 
emotions  were  counterfeit.  Little  dreamt  the  sympathising 
spectators  that  while  being  pushed  out  of  the  carriage  she 
had  contrived  to  whisper  back  to  the  man  so  rudely 
behaving :  a  Look  under  the  cushions,  querido !  You'll 
find  something.  Dios  te  guarda  !  " 

Still  less  could  they  have  supposed  that  the  other  young 
lady,  looking  so  meek,  had  at  the  same  time  spoken  tender 
words  to  the  second  ruffian  who  had  assailed  them. 

The  part  ft\z pobrecitas  were  playing,  with  the  sympathy 
they  received,  seemed  to  themselves  so  comically  ludicrous 
that,  but  for  its  serious  side,  neither  could  have  kept  coun- 
tenance. Alone  the  thought  of  the  lovers  not  yet  being 
beyond  danger  hindered  their  bursting  out  into  laughter. 

And  lest  this,  too,  might  cease  to  restrain  them  they 
seized  upon  the  earliest  pretext  to  get  away  from  the  spot. 

Glad  were  they  when  some  of  their  gentlemen  acquaint- 
ances, who  chanced  to  be  passing  the  place,  came  up  and 
proposed  escorting  them  home.  A  service  accepted  and, 
it  need  not  be  said,  offered  with  as  much  alacrity  as  it  was 
received. 

Their  departure  had  no  effect  in  dispersing  the  crowd 
which  had  gathered  by  the  Alamedas  Gate.  A  spot 
signalised  by  an  episode  so  odd  and  original,  was  not  to 
be  forsaken  in  that  quick  inconsiderate  way.  Instead,  the 
throng  grew  quicker,  until  the  street  for  a  long  stretch  was 
packed  full  of  people,  close  as  they  could  stand.  Only 
one  part  of  it  remained  unoccupied,  the  central  list  show- 
ing the  open  sewer  with  its  bordering  of  black  mud.  In 
their  holiday  attire  the  populace  declined  invading  this, 
though  they  stood  wedging  one  another  along  its  edge ; 
their  faces  turned  towards  it,  with  hilarity  in  their  looks 
and  laughter  on  their  lips.  It  was  just  the  sort  of  spectacle 


156  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

to  please  them  ;  the  sentries  in  a  row — for  they  had  now 
sneaked  back  to  their  post — appearing  terribly  crest-fallen, 
while  those  over  whom  they  stood  guard  seemed,  on  the 
contrary,  cheerful — as  though  expecting  soon  to  be  released 
from  their  chains.  With  them  it  was  the  esprit  de  corps  of 
the  galley  slave,  glad  to  see  a  comrade  escape  from  their 
common  misery,  though  he  cannot  escape  himself. 

All  this,  however,  was  tame ;  but  the  winding  up  of  the 
spectacle  in  a  quiet  natural  way.  It  would  soon  have  been 
over  now,  and  the  sightseers  scattered  off  to  their  homes  ; 
but  just  as  they  were  beginning  to  retire,  a  new  incident 
claimed  their  attention.  A  scene  almost  as  exciting  as  any 
that  had  preceded,  though  only  a  single  personage  appeared 
in  it.  This  Dominguez,  the  gaoler,  who  had  been  absent 
all  the  while  at  his  pulqueria,  and  only  just  warned  of  the 
event  that  had  so  convulsed  the  Calle  de  Plateros,  break- 
ing through  the  crowd  like  an  enraged  bull,  rushed  along 
the  sewer's  edge,  flourishing  his  whip  over  the  heads^of  the 
forzadosy  at  the  same  time  reviling  the  sentries  for  their 
scandalous  neglect  of  duty !  To  tell  the  truth,  he  was 
more  troubled  about  his  own.  He  had  received  particular 
instructions  to  be  watchful  of  four  prisoners — the  very  ones 
that  had  escaped.  Well  might  he  dread  the  reckoning  in 
store  for  him  on  return  to  the  gaol.  However  could  he 
face  his  governor  ? 

For  some  time  he  strode  to  and  fro,  venting  his  drunken 
spleen  alike  on  soldiers  or  scavengers.  Some  of  the  former 
would  have  retaliated  ;  but  they  knew  him  to  have  author- 
ity in  high  places,  and  therefore  kept  silent,  sullenly 
enduring  it.  Not  so  the  spectators,  many  of  whom, 
knowing,  hated  him.  Possibly,  more  than  probably,  some 
of  them  had  been  under  his  care.  But  to  all  he  was 
now  affording  infinite  amusement.  They  laughed  at  his 
impotent  anger,  and  laughed  again,  one  crying  out,  "  He's 


THE   POOR    LADIES.  157 

as  good  as  a  bull  in  a  ring !  "  another  exclaiming,  "  Viva 
el  Seiior  Dominguez  rey  de  las  bastoneros  !"  ("  Hurrah  for 
the  Sefior  Dominguez,  king  of  the  turnkeys  ! ") — a  sally 
which  elicited  roars  of  applauding  laughter. 

If  angry  before,  he  was  now  infuriated.  Purple  in  the 
face,  he  was  making  a  dash  at  the  man  whom  he  suspected 
of  mocking  him,  when  his  foot  slipped  and  down  he  went 
into  the  drain  head  foremost. 

He  had  altogether  disappeared,  and  was  for  some 
seconds  out  of  sight ;  the  laughter,  which  had  become  a 
yelling  chorus,  all  the  while  continuing.  Nor  did  it  cease 
when  he  re-appeared  ;  instead,  was  louder  and  more 
uproarious  than  ever.  For  his  face,  late  blue  with  rage, 
was  now  black  with  a  limning  of  the  sewer  liquid. 

But  he  was  less  mad  than  sad,  after  the  ill-timed  tumble. 
The  douche  had  tamed,  if  not  sobered  him ;  and  his  only 
thought  now  was  how  to  get  away  from  that  place  of 
repeated  discomfitures,  anywhere  to  hide  and  wash  him- 
self. 

Luck  declared  for  him  at  last,  in  the  approach  of  a 
squadron  of  Hussars,  drawing  off  from  him  the  eyes  of  the 
spectators  ;  who  had  now  enough  to  do  looking  out  for 
themselves  and  their  safety.  For  the  Hussars  were  coming 
on  at  a  gallop,  with  drawn  sabres. 

A  crush  and  a  scampering  followed,  as  they  forced  their 
way  through  the  crowd,  shouting,  and  striking  with  the 
back  of  their  blades.  After  they  had  passed,  the  people 
were  no  longer  in  a  humour  for  laughing  at  the  "  King  of 
the  turnkeys,"  nor  any  one  else ;  neither  was  he  there  to  be 
laughed  at 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 
A  TRANSFORMATION. 

WHILE  the  ladies  set  down  upon  the  street  were  still 
plaintively  appealing  to  those  around,  the  carriage  from 
which  they  had  been  so  unceremoniously  ejected  was  tear- 
ing along  the  Calle  de  San  Francisco,  going  direct  for  the 
Acordada  !  But  nothing  could  be  farther  from  the  thoughts 
of  those  in  it  than  a  return  to  that  grand  gaol,  or  even 
approaching  its  door.  All  of  them  knew  there  was  a 
regular  guard  there ;  and  instead  of  a  single  musket  miss- 
ing fire,  they  would  more  likely  be  saluted  with  a  full 
volley,  sending  a  shower  of  bullets  about  their  ears.  Bad 
marksmen  as  the  Mexican  soldiers  are,  they  could  not  all 
miss.  But  even  if  they  passed  through  that  unscathed, 
beyond  was  the  garita  of  San  Cosme*,  with  another  guard 
there.  Indeed,  go  what  way  they  would,  there  was  none 
leading  out  into  the  country  without  a  garita  to  be  got 
through — and  for  the  country  they  were  aiming. 

In  these  gates,  however,  there  was  a  difference  as  to  the 
strength  of  their  guard  detail,  and  the  possibilities  of  their 
being  passed.  All  of  which  one  of  the  fugitives  well  under- 
stood— Rivas,  who,  as  a  matter  of  course,  had  assumed 
direction  of  everything  relating  to  their  flight.  When 
opposite  the  old  convent,  which  gives  its  name  to  the 
street,  he  leaned  his  head  out  of  the  carriage  window,  and 
said  to  the  cochero  : — 

"  Take  the  route  by  El  Nino  Perdido.     You  know  the 

way ;  show  it  to  him," 

ill 


A   TRANSFORMATION.  159 

The  "  him  "  was  Cris  Rock,  who  still  had  hold  of  the 
reins,  and  who,  not  understanding  Spanish,  could  not  be 
addressed  direct. 

The  result  of  the  order  was,  that  shortly  after,  the  horses 
were  headed  into  a  side  street,  indicated  to  the  Texan  by 
a  nod  perceptible  only  to  himself.  It  would  not  do  for 
the  real  coachman  to  appear  as  aiding  their  escape ; 
though  there  was  no  danger  of  the  dwarf  observing  it — 
the  latter  having  been  crammed  down  into  the  boot — 
where  he  was  held  with  his  head  between  Rock's  huge 
thighs,  as  in  a  vice. 

The  street  into  which  they  had  turned  was  a  narrow  one 
running  along  a  dead  wall — that  of  the  ancient  monastery, 
which  occupies  acres  of  ground.  And  in  its  strip  of  side- 
walk just  then  there  was  not  a  pedestrian  to  be  seen — the 
very  thing  Rivas  had  been  wishing  for.  Again  speaking 
out,  he  said  : — 

"  Slowly  for  a  bit.  I  see  a  serapt  out  there.  Tell  the 
Tejanos  to  put  it  on." 

For  the  next  hundred  yards  or  so — along  the  dead  wall 
— the  horses  went  at  a  walk,  they  inside  the  carriage,  as 
also  one  on  the  box,  all  the  while  busy  as  bees.  And  when 
they  came  out  at  the  end  of  the  quiet  street  entering  upon 
a  more  frequented  thoroughfare,  the  brisk  pace  was  re- 
sumed ;  though  no  one  could  have  believed  it  the  same 
party,  seen  but  a  minute  or  two  before  driving  at  a  race- 
course speed  along  the  Calle*  de  Plateros.  Jose*  alone 
looked  the  same,  in  his  sky-blue  livery  and  cockaded  hat 
But  the  big  man  by  his  side  had  so  far  effected  a  change 
that  his  mud-stained  habiliments  were  hidden  under  an 
ample  serap^  which  covered  him  from  neck  to  ankles  ; 
while  the  little  one  was  altogether  invisible,  and  under  a 
threat  of  having  his  skull  kicked  in  if  he  attempted  to  show 
himself. 


I6O  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

Alike  quick  and  complete  had  been  the  transformation 
of  the  "  insides."  There  now  sat  two  gentlemen,  decently, 
indeed  rather  stylishly  dressed — one  wearing  a  blue  cloth 
cloak  with  velvet  collar ;  the  other  a  scarlet  "  manga,"  with 
gold  bullion  embroidery  from  neck  to  shoulders. 

About  the  equipage  there  was  little  now  to  make  remark 
upon,  or  cause  it  to  be  regarded  with  suspicion.  Some  rich 
haciendado,  who  had  been  at  the  laying  of  the  foundation- 
stone,  on  return  to  his  country  house,  taking  a  friend  along 
with  him.  The  strapping  fellow  on  the  box  might  be 
mayor-domo  of  the  estate — they  are  usually  tall  men— who 
had  taken  a  fancy  to  try  his  hand  at  driving,  and  the 
coachman  had  surrendered  him  the  reins.  All  perfectly 
natural,  and  en  regie,  even  to  the  rapid  speed  at  which  the 
horses  were  put.  The  driver  not  accustomed  to  handling 
the  ribbons  would  account  for  this.  Besides,  the  sun  was 
getting  low,  the  casa  de  campo  might  be  a  good  distance 
from  town,  and  such  a  splendid  turn  out,  belated  on  a 
country  road  would  be  like  tempting  Providence,  and 
certainly  the  salteadores  / 

How  little  would  its  occupants  have  regarded  an  en- 
counter with  highwaymen.  Perhaps  just  then  they  would 
have  welcomed  it.  Nor  much  did  Rivas  anticipate  further 
trouble  in  the  streets  of  the  city.  He  was  familiar  with 
those  they  were  now  driving  along,  and  felt  no  fear  of 
being  obstructed  there — at  least  by  the  people.  Had  they 
hung  their  chain  out  of  the  carriage  window  and  exposed 
the  prison  dress,  no  one  in  that  quarter  would  have  cried 
"Stop  thief!"  The  man  who  should  so  cry,  would  run 
the  risk  of  having  his  clamour  suddenly  silenced. 

For  all  they  had  apprehensions  of  the  keenest.  If  they 
were  in  no  danger  while  in  the  streets,  they  would  be  when 
parting  from  them — at  El  Nino  Perdido.  That  gauntlet 
had  yet  to  be  run. 


A   TRANSFORMATION.  l6l 

But  while  thinking  of  it,  they  had  not  been  idle ;  in- 
stead, all  the  while  planning  and  preparing  for  it ;  Rivas 
instructing  the  others  as  to  how  they  should  act. 

"A  garita  of  the  usual  kind,"  he  said  to  Kearney, 
making  known  the  nature  of  the  anticipated  obstruction  ; 
"a  gate  across  the  road,  with  a  guard-house  alongside. 
There's  sure  to  be  a  sergeant  and  eight  or  ten  files  in  it. 
If,  by  good  luck,  the  gate  be  open,  our  best  way  will  be  to 
approach  gently,  then  go  through  at  a  gallop.  If  shut, 
we'll  be  called  upon  to  show  our  best  diplomacy.  Leave  all 
that  to  me.  Failing  to  fool  the  guard,  we  must  do  battle 
with  it.  Anything's  better  than  be  taken  back  to  the 
Acordada.  That  would  be  sure  death  for  me  ;  and,  if  I 
mistake  not,  for  yourself,  Senor." 

"  I'm  sure  of  it.  If  we  can't  get  through  without,  let  us 
fight  our  way,  whatever  the  result." 

-  "Take  this  pair,  then.  They  seem  the  most  reliable. 
You  Americanos  are  more  skilled  in  the  use  of  fire-arms 
than  we.  With  us  steel  is  preferred.  But  I'll  do  the  best 
I  can  with  the  other  pair." 

This  had  reference  to  two  pairs  of  pistols  discovered 
under  the  carriage  cushions.  Nor  were  they  the  only 
weapons  there ;  besides  them  were  two  long-bladed  knives^ 
and  a  pearl-handled  stiletto — the  last  a  tiny  affair,  which 
looked  as  though  taken  from  the  toilet  case  of  a  lady. 

"  See  that  yours  are  loaded  and  in  firing  order,"  Rivas 
added,  at  the  same  time  looking  to  his  own. 

The  injunction  was  not  needed,  as  the  Irishman  was 
already  examining  the  weapons  put  into  his  hand,  with  a 
view  to  their  efficiency. 

Both  pair  of  pistols  were  of  the  old-fashioned  duelling 
kind — flint  locks,  with  barrels  nearly  a  foot  in  length.  Like 
as  not  the  Condesa's  father  and  Don  Ignacio  Valverde, 
in  days  long  gone  by,  had  vindicated  honour  with  them. 

M 


1 6?  THE  FREE   LANCES. 

The  inspection  was  quick  and  short,  as  had  been  all  that 
preceded ;  pans  sprung  open,  showing  them  filled  with 
powder ;  rammers  run  into  the  barrels,  then  drawn  out 
again,  and  replaced  in  their  thimbles. 

"  Mine,"  said  Kearney,  first  to  report,  "  are  good  for 
two  lives." 

"  And  mine  the  same,"  rejoined  Rivas,  "  unless  I'm  laid 
low  before  I  can  pull  the  second  trigger.  Now  to  dispose 
of  the  knives.  My  countryman,  the  cochero,  however 
trustworthy,  mustn't  show  fight.  That  would  ruin  all  after- 
wards. But,  if  I  mistake  not,  your  colossal  comrade  is  the 
man  to  make  play  with  one  of  them  in  a  pinch." 

"You  may  be  sure  of  it.  He  was  in  the  Alamo  with 
Bowie,  and  at  Goliad  with  Fanning.  Don't  fear  putting  a 
knife  into  his  hands ;  he'll  make  good  use  of  it  if  we're 
driven  to  close  quarters." 

"  Let  him  have  it,  then.     You  give  it,  and  tell  him  all." 

Kearney  getting  hold  of  one  of  the  two  knives,  that 
seeming  best  suited  for  the  hands  he  designed  putting  it 
in,  passed  it  on  to  Cris  Rock — not  through  the  carriage 
window,  but  a  hole  cut  in  the  leathern  hood  by  the  blade 
itself.  Speaking  through  the  same,  he  said, — 

"  Cris  !  we've  got  to  run  a  gate  where  there's  a  guard  of 
soldiers — maybe  a  dozen  or  so.  You're  to  drive  gently  up, 
and,  if  you  see  it  open,  pass  through — then  lay  on  the 
whip.  Should  it  be  shut,  approach  more  briskly,  and  pull 
up  impatient-like.  But  do  nothing  of  yourself — wait  till  I 
give  you  the  word." 

Trust  me,  Cap. ;  ye  kin  do  that,  I  kilk'late." 

"  I  can,  Cris.  Take  this  knife,  and  -if  you  hear  pistols 
cracking  behind,  you'll  then  know  what  to  do  with  it." 

"  I  gie  a  guess,  anyhow,"  rejoined  the  Texan,  taking  hold 
of  the  knife,  in  a  hand  passed  behind  him.  Then  bringing 
it  forward  and  under  his  eyes,  he  added,  "  'Taint  sech  a 


A   TRANSFORMATION.  163 

bad  sort  o'  blade  eyther,  tho'  I  weesh  'twas  my  ole  bowie 
they  took  from  me  at  Mier.  Wai,  Cap. ;  ye  km  count  on  me 
makin'  use  o't,  ef  'casion  calls,  an'  more'n  one  yallerbelly 
gittin'  it  inter  his  guts  ;  not'ithstandin'  this  durnation  clog 
that's  swinging  at  my  legs.  By  the  jumping  Geehosophat, 

if  I  ked  only  git  shet  o'  that  I'd " 

What  he  would  do  or  intended  saying,  had  to  stay  un- 
said. Rivas  interrupted  him,  pulling  Kearney  back,  and 
telling  him  to  be  ready  with  the  pistols.  For  they  wera 
nearing  the  place  of  danger. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 
AN  UNLOOKED-FOR  SALUTE. 

IN  a  strict  military  sense  the  capital  of  Mexico  cannot  be 
called  a  fortified  city.  Still,  it  has  defences,  one  being  an 
enceinte  wall,  which  envelops  it  all  round,  leaving  no  strag- 
gled suburb,  scarce  so  much  as  a  house,  outside.  Compact 
and  close  stand  the  dwellings  of  the  modern  city  as  those 
of  ancient  Tenochtitlan,  whose  site  it  occupies,  though  the 
waves  of  Tezcuco  and  Xochimilco  no  longer  lap  up  to  its 
walls. 

The  enceinte  spoken  of  is  a  mere  structure  of  "  adobe's," 
large  sun-baked  blocks  of  mud  and  straw — in  short,  the 
bricks  of  the  Egyptians,  whose  making  so  vexed  Moses 
and  the  Israelites.  Here  and  there  may  be  seen  a  little 
redoubt,  with  a  battery  of  guns  in  it ;  but  only  on  revolu- 
tionary occasions — the  wall,  so  far  as  defence  goes,  more 
concerning  the  smuggler  than  the  soldier  ;  and  less  con- 
traband from  abroad  than  infringement  of  certain  regula- 
tions of  home  commerce — chief  of  them  the  tax  called 
"  alcabala,"  corresponding  to  the  octroi  of  France,  and  the 
corvte  of  some  other  European  countries. 

The  tax  is  collected  at  the  "  garitas,"  of  which  there  is 
one  on  every  road  leading  out  of  the  city,  or  rather  into  it ; 
for  it  is  the  man  who  enters,  not  he  making  exit,  who  is 
called  upon  to  contribute  to  the  alcabala.  It  is  levied  on 
every  article  or  commodity  brought  from  the  country  in 
search  of  a  city  market.  Nothing  escapes  it ;  the  produce 
of  farm  and  garden,  field  and  forest — all  have  to  pay  toll 

164 


AN    UNLOOKED-FOR   SALUTE.  165 

at  the  garitas,  so  losing  a  considerable  percentage  of  their 
value.  The  brown  aboriginal,  his  "  burro "  laden  with 
charcoal,  or  skins  of  pulque ',  or  himself  staggering  under  a 
load  of  planks  heavy  enough  to  weigh  down  a  donkey, 
which  lie  has  transported  from  a  mountain  forest — ten  or 
twenty  miles  it  may  be — is  mulcted  in  this  blackmail 
befc  /e  h«i  can  pass  through  a  garita. 

Not  unfrequently  he  is  unable  to  meet  the  demand  till 
he  have  made  sale  of  the  taxed  commodity.  On  such 
occasions  he  hypothecates  his  hat,  or  frezada,  leaving  it  at 
the  gate,  and  going  on  bareheaded  or  bare-shouldered  to 
the  market,  to  redeem  the  pawned  article  on  return. 

Save  through  these  gates  there  is  no  access  to,  or  egress 
from,  the  Mexican  capital ;  and  at  each,  besides  the  official 
having  charge  of  the  revenue  matters,  a  soldier-guard  is 
stationed,  with  a  guard-house  provided  ;  their  duties  being 
of  a  mixed,  three-cornered  kind — customs,  police,  and 
military.  Five  or  six  such  posts  there  are,  on  the  five  or 
six  roaJs  leading  out  from  the  city,  like  the  radiating 
limbs  of  a  star-fish ;  and  one  of  these  is  the  garita  El 
Nino  Peniido — literally,  the  gate  of  the  "Lost  Child."  It 
is,  however,  one  through  which  the  traffic  is  of  secondary 
importance  ;  since  it  is  not  on  any  of  the  main  routes  of 
travel.  That  which  it  bars  is  but  a  country  road,  com- 
municating with  the  villages  of  Mixcoac,  Coyoacan,  and 
San  Angel.  Still,  these  being  places  of  rural  residence, 
where  some  of  the  familiares  principes  have  country 
houses,  a  carriage  passing  through  the  gate  of  the  Lost 
Child  is  no  rarity.  Besides,  from  the  gate  itself  runs  a 
Calzada,  or  causeway,  wide  and  straight  for  nearly  two 
miles,  with  a  double  row  of  grand  old  trees  along  each 
side,  whose  pleasant  shade  invites,  and  often  receives,  visits 
from  city  excursionists  out  for  a  stroll,  ride,  or  drive.  Near 
th^  end  of  t£<e  second  mile  it  angles  abruptly  to  the  right, 


1 66  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

in  the  direction  of  San  Angel — a  sharp  corner  the  writer 
has  good  reason  to  remember,  having  been  shot  at  by 
salteadoresy  luckily  missed,  while  passing  round  it  on  his 
way  from  country  quarters  to  the  city.  A  horse  of  best 
blood  saved  his  blood  there,  or  this  tale  would  never  have 
been  told. 

Asking  the  reader's  pardon  for  a  personal  digression — 
with  the  excuse  that  it  may  throw  light  on  the  scene  to 
follow — it  will  be  understood  how  easily  the  guard  on  duty 
at  the  gate  might  be  "  thrown  off  guard "  by  a  carriage 
passing  through  it ;  especially  on  that  day  when  there  were 
so  many,  by  reason  of  the  grand  doings  in  the  city. 

Several  had  just  passed,  going  country  wards  ;  for  it  was 
the  season  of  rural  sojourn  among  the  "ricos."  So,  when 
another  appeared;  heading  in  the  same  direction,  the  guard 
sergeant  at  Nino  Perdido  saw  nothing  amiss,  or  to  be  sus- 
picious of ;  instead,  something  to  inspire  him  with  respect. 
He  had  been  on  guard  at  the  Palace  scores  of  times  ;  and 
by  appearance  knew  all  who  were  accustomed  to  pass  in 
and  out,  more  especially  those  holding  authority.  Liveries 
he  could  distinguish  at  any  distance  ;  and  when  he  saw  a 
carriage  approaching  along  the  street,  with  a  coachman  in 
sky-blue  and  silver,  cockaded,  he  did  not  need  its  being 
near  to  recognise  the  equipage  of  one  of  the  Cabinet 
Ministers. 

Though  a  non-commissioned  officer,  he  was  a  man  of 
ambitious  aims ;  dreaming  of  gold  bullion  in  the  shape  of 
epaulettes ;  and  he  had  long  had  his  eye  on  the  epaulette 
of  an  alferez — officers  of  this  rank  being  allowed  only  one. 
The  good  word  of  a  Cabinet  Minister,  whether  war,  navy, 
or  Hacienda,  could  give  him  what  he  was  wishing  for,  easy 
at  a  nod  ;  and  here  was  an  opportunity  of  winning  it. 

"  Cabo ! "  he  cried  out  to  his  corporal,  in  a  flurry  of 
excitement,  "  throw  open  the  gate — quick  1  Fall  in,  men ! 


AN   UNLOOKED-FOR   SALUTE.  167 

Dress  up— ready  to  present  arms !  See  that  you  do  it 
handsomely !  " 

It  was  in  his  favour,  and  so  he  congratulated  himself 
that  the  carriage  came  on  rather  slowly,  so  that  he  had 
ample  time  to  get  his  half-dozen  files  well  set-up  and 
dressed  for  the  salute. 

There  was  some  buttoning  of  jackets,  stocks  to  be 
adjusted  round  shirtless  necks,  with  shakos  to  be  searched 
for  inside  the  guard-house,  and  hurriedly  clapped  on.  Still, 
it  was  all  got  through  in  good  time ;  and,  when  at  length 
the  carriage  came  abreast,  the  guard  was  found  standing 
at  "present  arms,"  the  sergeant  himself  saluting  in  the 
most  gracious  manner. 

They  inside,  knowing  how,  returned  the  salute  in  true 
soldier  style,  though  with  a  surprised  expression  upon  their 
faces.  No  wonder.  Where  they  had  anticipated  difficulty 
and  danger,  they  were  received  with  more  than  civility — 
accorded  military  honours  1 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 
"Is  IT  A  GRITO?" 

THE  soldiers  of  the  guard  had  grounded  arms,  and  were 
sauntering  back  to  their  benches,  when  something  came 
into  the  sergeant's  mind  which  caused  him  misgiving. 
Was  it  possible  he  had  been  paying  honours  to  those  un- 
deserving of  them  ? 

He  was  sure  of  it  being  the  carriage  of  Don  Ignacio 
Valverde ;  his  horses  and  livery  too.  But  nothing  more. 
None  of  the  party  was  known  to  him  as  belonging  to  Don 
Ignacio's  family  or  servants.  For  Jose*  was  but  groom  or 
second  coachman,  who  occasionally  drove  out  his  young 
mistress,  but  never  to  the  Palace,  or  other  place  where  the 
sergeant  had  been  on  duty. 

Equally  a  stranger  to  him  was  the  big  fellow  on  the  box, 
who  had  hold  of  the  reins,  as  also  one  of  the  gentlemen 
inside.  It  occurred  to  him,  however,  that  the  face  of  the 
other  was  familiar — awakening  the  memories  of  more  than 
ordinary  interest. 

"Mil  diablos!"  he  muttered  to  himself  as  he  stood  gazing 
after  the  retreating  equipage.  "If  that  wasn't  my  old 
captain,  Don  Ruperto  Rivas,  there  isn't  another  man  in 
Mexico  more  like  him.  I  heard  say  he  had  turned 
salteador,  and  they'd  taken  him  only  the  other  day. 
Carria  !  what's  that  ?  " 

The  carriage,  as  yet  not  over  a  hundred  yards  from  the 
garita,  still  going  on  at  a  rather  moderate  pace,  was  seen 
suddenly  to  increase  its  speed  :  in  fact,  the  horses  had 

168 


"l£   IT   A   GR2TO?"  169 

started  off  at  a  gallop !  Nor  was  this  from  ar.y  sc«*r2  or 
fright,  but  caused  by  a  sharp  cut  or  two  of  the  whip,  as  he 
could  tell  by  seeing  the  arm  of  the  big  man  on  the  box 
several  times  raised  above  the  roof,  and  vigorously  lowered 
again.  Extraordinary  behaviour  on  his  part ;  how  was  it  to 
be  accounted  for  ?  And  how  explain  that  of  the  gentle- 
man inside,  who  appeared  satisfied  with  the  changed  pace  ? 
At  all  events  they  were  doing  naught  to  prevent  it,  for 
again  and  again  the  whip  strokes  were  repeated  None  of 
the  party  were  intoxicated ;  at  least  they  had  no  appearance 
of  it  when  they  passed  the  gate.  A  little  excited-looking, 
though  no  morr  than  might  be  expected  in  men  returning 
from  a  public  procession.  But  an  elegant  light  equipage 
with  horses  in  full  gallop,  so  unlike  the  carriage  of  a 
Cabinet  Minister !  What  the  mischief  could  it  mean  ? 

The  guard  sergeant  had  just  asked  himself  the  question, 
when,  hark !  a  gun  fired  at  the  citadela !  Soon  after 
another  from  the  military  college  of  Chapultepec !  And 
from  the  direction  of  the  Plaza  Grande  the  ringing  of  bells. 
First  those  of  the  Cathedral,  then  of  the  Acordada,  and 
the  convent  of  San  Francisco^  with  other  convents  and 
churches,  till  there  was  a  clangour  all  over  the  city ! 

Hark  again !  A  second  gun  from  the  citadel,  quickly 
followed  by  another  from  Chapultepec,  evidently  signals 
and  their  responses ! 

"  What  the  demonio  is  it  ?     A  pronunctamento  ?  w 

Not  only  did  the  sergeant  thus  interrogate,  but  all  the 
soldiers  under  his  command,  putting  the  question  to  one 
another.  It  would  be  nothing  much  to  surprise  them,  least 
of  all  himself.  He  was  somewhat  of  a  veteran,  and  had 
serin  nigh  a  score  of  revolutions,  counting  emeutes. 

"  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  it  is,"  he  suggested,  adding 
<is  a  third  gun  boomed  out  from  the  citadel ;  "  it  must  be  a 
gnto!" 


I7O  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

"  Who's  raising  it  this  time,  I  wonder  ?  "  said  one  of  the 
soldiers,  all  now  in  a  flurry  of  excited  expectancy. 

Several  names  of  noted  militaries  were  mentioned  at  a 
venture  ;  but  no  one  could  say  for  certain,  nor  even  give  a 
guess  with  any  confidence.  They  could  hardly  yet  realize 
its  being  the  breaking  out  of  a  pronunciamento,  since  there 
had  been  no  late  tampering  with  them — the  usual  pre- 
liminary to  revolutions. 

It  might  not  be,  after  all.  But  they  would  be  better  able 
to  decide  should  they  hear  the  rattle  of  small  arms,  and  for 
this  listened  they  all  ears. 

More  than  one  of  them  would  have  been  delighted  to 
hear  it.  Not  that  they  disliked  the  regime  of  the  Dictator, 
nor  the  man  himself.  Like  all  despots  he  was  the  soldiers 
friend  ;  professed  and  giving  proofs  of  it,  by  indulging 
them  in  soldierly  licence — permission  to  lord  it  over  the 
citizen.  But  much  as  they  liked  "  El  Cojo  "  (Game  leg),  as 
they  called  him,  a  grito  would  be  still  more  agreeable  to 
them — promising  unlimited  loot. 

The  sergeant  had  views  of  his  own,  and  reflections  he 
kept  to  himself.  He  felt  good  as  sure  there  was  something 
up,  and  could  not  help  connecting  it  with  the  carriage 
which  had  just  passed.  He  now  no  longer  doubted  having 
seen  his  old  captain  in  it.  But  how  came  he  to  be  there, 
and  what  doing  ?  He  had  been  in  the  city,  that's  certain — 
was  now  out  of  it,  and  going  at  a  speed  that  must  mean 
something  more  than  common.  He  could  get  to  San 
Augustin  by  that  route.  There  were  troops  quartered 
there  ;  had  they  declared  for  the  Liberals  ? 

It  might  be  so,  and  Rivas  was  on  his  way  to  meet  and 
lead  them  on  to  the  city.  At  any  moment  they  might 
appear  on  the  calzada,  at  the  corner  round  which  the  car- 
riage had  just  turned. 

The  sergeant  was  now  in  a  state  of  nervous  perplexity. 


"IS   IT   A   GRITO  ?"  I7f 

Although  his  eyes  were  on  the  road  his  thoughts  were  not 
there,  but  all  turned  inward,  communing  with  himself. 
Which  side  ought  he  to  take?  That  of  the  Liberates  or  the 
Parti  Pretre?  He  had  been  upon  both  through  two  or 
three  alternate  changes,  and  still  he  was  but  a  sargento. 
And  as  he  had  been  serving  Santa  Anna  for  a  longer  spell 
than  usual,  without  a  single  step  of  promotion,  he  could 
not  make  much  of  a  mistake  by  giving  the  Republican 
party  one  more  trial.  It  might  get  him  the  long-coveted 
epaulette  of  alferez. 

While  still  occupied  with  his  ambitious  dreams,  en- 
deavouring to  decide  into  which  scale  he  should  throw  the 
weight  of  his  sword,  musket,  and  bayonet,  the  citadel  gun 
once  more  boomed  out,  answered  by  the  canon  of  Chapul- 
tepec. 

Still,  there  was  no  cracking  of  rifles,  nor  continuous 
rattle  of  musketry,  such  as  should  be  heard  coincident  with 
that  cry  which  in  the  Mexican  metropolis  usually  announces 
a  change  of  government. 

It  seemed  strange  not  only  to  him,  but  all  others  on 
guard  at  El  Nino.  But  it  might  be  a  parley — the  calm 
before  the  storm,  which  they  could  not  help  thinking  would 
yet  burst  forth,  in  full  fusilade — such  as  they  had  been 
accustomed  to. 

Listening  on,  however,  they  heard  not  that ;  only  the 
bells,  bells,  bells,  jingling  all  over  the  city,  as  though  it 
were  on  fire,  those  of  the  cathedral  leading  the  orchestra  of 
campanule  music.  And  yet  another  gun  from  the  citadel, 
with  the  answering  one  from  the  "  Summer  Palace  of  the 
Monctezunas." 

They  were  fast  losing  patience,  beginning  to  fear  there 
would  be  no  pronunciamento  after  all,  and  no  chance  of 
plundering,  when  the  notes  of  a  cavalry  bugle  broke  upon 
their  ears. 


172  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

"  At  last !  "  cried  one,  speaking  the  mind  of  all,  and  as 
though  the  sound  were  a  relief  to  them.  "That's  the 
beginning  of  it.  So,  camarados  /  we  may  get  ready.  The 
next  thing  will  be  the  cracking  of  carbines !  " 

They  all  ran  to  the  stack  of  muskets,  each  clutching  at 
his  own.  They  stood  listening  as  before ;  but  not  to  hear 
any  cracking  of  carbines.  Instead,  the  bugle  again  brayed 
out  its  trumpet  notes,  recognisable  as  signals  of  command  ; 
which,  though  only  infantry  men,  they  understood.  There 
was  the  "  Quick  march ! "  and  "  Double  quick  !  "  but  they 
had  no  time  to  reflect  on  what  it  was  for,  nor  need,  as 
just  then  a  troop  of  Hussars  was  seen  defiling  out  from  a 
side  street,  and  coming  on  towards  them  at  a  charging 
gallop. 

In  a  few  seconds  they  were  up  to  the  gate,  which,  being 
still  open,  they  could  have  passed  through,  without  stop  or 
parley.  For  all,  they  made  -both,  the  commanding  officer 
suddenly  reining  up,  and  shouting  back  along  the  line, — 

"Alto!" 

The  "halt"  was  proclaimed  by  the  trumpeter  at  his  side, 
which  brought  the  galloping  cohort  to  a  stand. 

"  Sargento  !  "  thundered  he  at  their  head  to  the  guard- 
sergeant,  who,  with  his  men  re-formed,  was  again  at 
"Present  arms!"  "Has  a  carriage  passed  you,  guard — a 
landau — grey  horses,  five  men  in  it  ?  " 

"  Only  four  men,  Senor  Colonel ;  but  all  the  rest  as  you 
describe  it." 

"  Only  four !  What  can  that  mean  ?  Was  there  a 
coachman  in  light  blue  livery — silver  facings  ? " 

"  The  same,  Senor  Colonel." 

"  That's  it,  sure  ;  must  be.     How  long  since  it  passed  ? " 

"  Not  quite  twenty  minutes,  Senor  Colonel.  It's  just 
gone  round  the  corner ;  yonder  where  you  see  the  dust 
stirring." 


"  IS   IT   A   GRITO  ?  "  1 73 

"  Adelante  /"  cried  the  colonel,  without  waiting  to  ques- 
tion further,  and  as  the  trumpet  gave  out  the  "  Forward — 
gallop! "the  Hussar  troop  went  sweeping  through  the  gate, 
leaving  the  guard-sergeant  and  his  men  in  a  state  of  great 
mystification  and  no  little  chagrin  ;  he,  their  chief  spokes- 
man, saying  with  a  sorrowful  air, — 

'  Well,  hombres>  it  don't  look  like  *grito>  after  all  1 " 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

AN  ILL-USED  .COACHMAN. 

"  SUCH  forethought  ? "  exclaimed  Rivas,  as  the  landau 
went  rattling  along  the  road  with  the  speed  of  a  war- 
chariot,  "  wonderful !  "  he  went  on.  "  Ah,  for  cleverness, 
commend  me  to  a  woman — when  her  will's  in  it.  We  men 
are  but  simpletons  to  them.  My  glorious  Ysabel !  She's 
the  sort  for  a  soldier's  wife.  But  don't  let  me  be  claiming 
all  the  credit  for  her.  Fair  play  to  the  Senorita  Valverde  ; 
who  has,  I  doubt  not,  done  her  share  of  the  contriving — on 
your  account,  Sefior." 

The  Sefior  so  spoken  to  had  no  doubt  of  it  either,  and 
would  have  been  grieved  to  think  otherwise,  but  he  was 
too  busy  at  the  moment  to  say  much,  and  only  signified 
his  assent  in  monosyllables.  With  head  down,  and  arms 
in  see-sawing  motion,  he  was  endeavouring  to  cut  their 
coupling-chain  ;  the  tool  he  handled  being  a  large  file ; 
another  of  the  "  something  "  to  be  found  under  the  cush- 
ions— as  found  it  was  !  No  wonder  Don  Ruperto's  en- 
thusiastic admiration  of  the  providence  which  had  placed 
it  there. 

Handy  with  workmen's  tools  as  with  war-like  weapons, 
the  young  Irishman  had  laid  hold  of  it  as  soon  as  they 
were  safe  through  the  garita,  and  was  now  rasping  away 
with  might  and  main ;  the  other  keeping  the  chain  in 
place. 

It  was  not  a  task  to  be  accomplished  without  time. 
The  links  were  thick  as  a  man's  finger,  and  would  need 

17* 


AN    ILL-USED    COACHMAN. 

no  end  of  filing  before  they  could  be  parted.  StJU,  there 
was  little  likelihood  of  their  being  interrupted  until  it 
could  be  done.  There  was  nobody  on  the  road,  and  only 
here  and  there  some  labourers  at  work  in  the  adjoining 
fields,  too  busy  to  take  note  of  them,  or  what  they  were  at. 
The  sight  of  a  passing  carriage  would  be  nothing  strange, 
and  the  horses  going  at  a  gallop  would  but  lead  to  the 
supposition  of  its  being  a  party  of  "jovenes  dorados1' 
driving  out  into -the  country,  who  had  taken  too  much  wine 
before  starting. 

But,  even  though  these  poor  proletarians  knew  all,  there 
was  nothing  to  be  apprehended  for  any  action  on  their 
part.  Conspiracies  and  pronunciamentos  were  not  in  their 
line  ;  and  the  storm  of  revolution  might  burst  over  their 
heads  without  their  caring  what  way  it  went,  or  even 
inquiring  who  was  its  promoter.  So  the  escaping  pris- 
oners took  little  pains  to  conceal  what  they  were  at. 
Speed  was  now  more  to  their  purpose  than  strategy,  and 
they  were  making  their  best  of  it,  both  to  get  on  along  the 
road,  and  have  their  legs  free  for  future  action. 

0  We  might  have  passed  safely  through  that  gate,"  said 
the  Mexican,  who  still  continued  to  do  the  talking,  "  even 
had  they  known  who  we  were." 

"Indeed!  how?" 

M  You  saw  that  sergeant  who  saluted  us  ?  w 

"  Of  course  I  did,  and  the  grand  salute  he  gave !  He 
couldn't  have  made  it  more  impressive  had  it  been  the 
Commander-in-Chief  of  your  army,  or  the  Dictator  himself 
who  was  passing." 

"And  I  fancy  it  was  just  something  of  the  kind  that 
moved  him.  Doubtless,  the  livery  of  the  coachman,  which 
he  would  know  to  be  that  of  Don  Ignacio  Valverde." 

'-'  You  think  he  got  us  through  ?  " 

"Yes      But  it  wouldn't  have  done  so  if  he'd   known 


176  THE   FREE    LANCES. 

what  was  up.  Though  something  else  might — that  is, 
his  knowing  me" 

"  Oh  !  he  knows  you  ?  " 

"  He  does ;  though  I'm  not  sure  he  recognised  me  in 
passing,  as  I  did  him.  Odd  enough,  his  being  there  just 
then.  He  was  corporal  in  a  company  I  once  commanded,- 
and  I  believe  liked  me  as  his  captain.  He's  an  old 
schemer,  though ;  has  turned  his  coat  times  beyond 
counting  ;  and  just  as  well  there's  been  no  call  for  trust- 
ing him.  He'll  catch  it  for  letting  us  slip  past  without 
challenge  ;  and  serve  him  right,  wearing  the  colours  he 
now  does.  Ha  !  they've  waked  up  at  last !  I  was  expect- 
ing that." 

It  was  the  first  gun  at  the  citadel  which  called  forth 
these  exclamations,  soon  followed  by  the  ding-dong  of 
the  city  bells. 

"Carrai!"  he  continued,  "we're  no  doubt  being  pur- 
sued now,  and  by  cavalry  ;  some  of  those  we  saw  in  the 
procession.  It  begins  to  look  bad.  Still,  with  so  much 
start,  and  this  fine  pair  of  frisones,  I've  not  much  fear  of 
their  overtaking  us,  till  we  reach  the  point  I'm  making  for  ; 
unless,  indeed " 

"  Unless  what  ? "  asked  Kearney,  seeing  he  had  inter- 
rupted himself,  and  was  looking  out  apprehensively. 

"  That !  There's  your  answer,"  said  the  Mexican,  point- 
ing to  a  puff  of  smoke  that  had  just  shot  out  from  the 
summit  of  an  isolated  hill  on  which  were  batteries  and 
buildings.  "  Chapultepec — a  gun  !  "  he  added,  and  the 
bang  came  instantly  after. 

"  We'll  have  it  hot  enough  now,"  he  continued,  in  a  tone 
telling  of  alarm.  "  There's  sure  to  be  cavalry  up  yonder. 
If  they're  cleverly  led,  and  know  which  way  to  take,  they 
may  head  us  off  yet,  in  spite  of  all  we  can  do.  Lay  on  the 
whip,"  he  shouted  out  to  the  coachman. 


AN   ILL-USED   COACHMAN.  177 

And  the  whip  was  laid  on,  till  the  horses  galloped  faster 
than  ever,  leaving  behind  a  cloud  of  dust,  which  extended 
back  for  more  than  a  mile. 

The  road  they  were  on  was  the  direct  route  to  San 
Angel ;  and  through  this  village  Rivas  had  intended 
going,  as  he  had  no  reason  to  believe  there  were  froops 
stationed  in  it.  But  Chapultepec  was  nearer  to  it  than 
the  point  where  they  themselves  were,  and  cavalry  now 
starting  from  the  latter  could  easily  reach  San  Angel 
before  them.  But  there  was  a  branch  road  leading  to 
Coyoacan,  and  as  that  would  give  them  some  advantage, 
he  determined  on  taking  it 

And  now  another  gun  at  the  citadel,  with  the  response 
from  Chapultepec,  and,  soon  after,  the  third  booming  from 
both.  But  meanwhile,  something  seen  at  the  castle- 
crowned  hill  which  deepened  the  anxious  expression  on 
the  face  of  the  Mexican. 

"  Santos  DiosT  he  exclaimed  ;  "  just  as  I  expected.  Look 
yonder,  Seftor ! " 

Kearney  looked,  to  see  a  stream  pouring  out  from  the 
castle  gates  and  running  down  the  steep  causeway  which 
zig-zags  to  the  bottom  of  the  hill.  A  stream  of  men  in 
uniform,  by  their  square  crowned  shakos  and  other  insignia, 
recognisable  as  Lancers.  They  had  neither  weapons  nor 
horses  with  them ;  but  both,  as  Rivas  knew,  would  be  at 
the  Cuartel  and  stables  below.  He  also  knew  that  the 
Lanzeros  were  trained  soldiers — a  petted  arm  of  the  service 
— and  it  would  not  take  them  long  to  "  boot  and  saddle." 

More  than  ever  was  his  look  troubled  now,  still  not 
despairing.  He  had  his  hopes  and  plans. 

"  Drop  your  file,  Senor,"  he  said  hurriedly ;  "  no  time 
to  finish  that  now.  We  must  wait  for  a  better  opportunity. 
And  we'll  have  to  leave  the  carriage  behind ;  but  not  just 
yet," 


1 78  THE  FREE   LANCES. 

By  this  they  had  arrived  at  the  embouchure  of  the  branch 
road  coming  out  from  Cayocaon,  into  which  by  his  direction 
the  horses  were  headed,  going  on  without  stop  or  slacken- 
ing of  speed.  And  so  for  nearly  another  mile ;  then  he  called 
out  to  those  on  the  box  to  bring  up. 

Rock,  anticipating  something  of  the  sort,  instantly  reined 
in,  and  the  carriage  came  to  a  stand.  At  which  the  two 
inside  sprang  out  upon  the  road,  Kearney  calling  to  the 
Texan, — 

"Drop  the  reins,  CrisI  Down;  unhitch  the  horses. 
Quick ! " 

And  quick  came  he  down,  jerking  the  dwarf  after,  who 
fell  upon  all  fours  ;  as  he  recovered  his  feet,  looking  as  if 
he  had  lost  his  senses.  No  one  heeded  him  or  his  looks ; 
the  hurry  was  too  great  even  to  stay  for  unbuckling. 

"  Cut  everything  off  1 "  cried  Kearney,  still  speaking  to 
Rock.  "Leave  on  only  the  bridles." 

With  the  knife  late  put  into  his  hands  the  Texan  went  to 
work,  Kearney  himself  plying  the  other,  while  Rivas  held 
the  horses  and  unhooked  the  bearing  reins. 

Soon  pole-pieces  and  hame-straps  were  severed ;  and  the 
frisones  led  forward  left  all  behind,  save  the  bridles  and 
collars. 

"  Leave  the  collars  on,"  said  Rivas,  seeing  there  was  no 
time  to  detach  them.  "  Now  we  mount  two  and  two ; 
but  first  to  dispose  of  him." 

The  "him  "  was  Jose*,  still  seated  on  the  box,  apparently 
in  a  state  of  stupor. 

"  Pull  him  down,  Cris !  Tie  him  to  the  wheel  I  "  com- 
manded Kearney.  "  The  driving  reins  will  do  it." 

The  Texan  knew  how  to  handle  tying  gear,  as  all  Texans 
do,  and  in  a  trice  the  unresisting  cochero  was  dragged  from 
his  seat  and  bound,  Ixion-like,  to  one  of  the  carriage 
wheels. 


AN    ILL-USED    COACHMAN.  179 

But  Rock  had  not  done  with  him  yet.  There  was  a 
necessity  for  something  more,  which  looked  like  wanton 
cruelty — as  they  wished  it  to  look.  This  was  the  opening 
of  the  poor  fellow's  mouth,  and  gagging  him  with  the  stock 
of  his  own  whip  ! 

So,  rendered  voiceless  and  helpless,  he  saw  the  four  forza- 
dos,  two-and-two,  get  upon  his  horses  and  ride  off,  the  only 
one  who  vouchsafed  to  speak  a  parting  word  being  the 
dwarf — he  calling  back  in  a  jocular  way, — 

"  Adios,  SeHor  cochero  !  May  your  journey  be  as  plea- 
sant as  your  coach  is  ^low.  Ha,  ha,  ha  1 " 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 
DOUBLE   MOUNTED. 

THE  labourers  hoeing  among  the  young  maize  plants,  anJ 
the  tlachiquero  drawing  the  sap  from  his  magueys,  sa*r  a 
sight  to  astonish  them.  Two  horses  of  unusual  size,  both 
carrying  double,  and  going  at  full  gallop  as  if  running 
a  race — on  one  of  them  two  men  in  cloaks,  blue  and 
scarlet;  the  other  ridden  by  a  giant,  with  a  mis-shapen 
monkey-like  creature  clinging  on  the  croup  behind — 
harness  bridles,  with  collars  dancing  loose  around  their 
necks — chains  hanging  down  and  clanking  at  every  bound 
they  made — all  this  along  field  paths,  in  an  out-of-the-way 
neighbourhood  where  such  horses  and  such  men  had  never 
been  seen  before !  To  the  cultivator  of  "  milpas  "  and  the 
collector  of  "  aguamiel "  it  was  a  sight  not  only  to  astonish, 
but  inspire  them  with  awe,  almost  causing  the  one  to  drop 
his  hoe,  the  other  his  half-filled  hogskin,  and  take  to  their 
heels.  But  both  being  of  the  pure  Aztecan  race,  long 
subdued  and  submissive,  yet  still  dreaming  of  a  return  to 
its  ancient  rule  and  glories,  they  might  have  believed  it 
their  old  monarchs,  Monctezuna  and  Guatimozin,  come 
back  again,  or  the  god  Oatluetzale  himself. 

In  whatever  way  the  spectacle  affected  them,  they  were 
not  permitted  long  to  look  upon  it.  For  the  galloping 
pace  was  kept  up  without  halt  or  slowing ;  the  strange- 
looking  horses  —  with  the  men  upon  their  backs,  still 
stranger  to  look  at — soon  entered  a  chapparal^  which 

180 


ttrtUBLE   MOUNTED.  l8l 

bordered  the  twatire  and  maguey  fields,  and  so  passed  out 


"WeVe  near  the  end  of  our  ride  now,"  said  Rivas  to 

Kearney,  after  they  had  been  some  time  threading  their 
way  through  the  thicket,  the  horses  from  necessity  going 
at  a  walk.  "If  'twere  not  for  this  ironmongery  around 
our  ankles,  I  could  almost  say  we're  safe.  Unfortunately, 
where  we've  got  to  go  the  chains  will  be  a  worse  impedi- 
ment than  ever.  The  file  !  Have  we  forgotten  it?" 

"No,"  answered  Kearney,  drawing  it  from  under  his 
cloak,  and  holding  it  up. 

"  Thoughtful  of  yoa,  cabdllero.  In  the  haste,  I  had  ;  and 
we  should  have  been  helpless  without  it,  or  at  all  events 
awkwardly  fixed.  If  we  only  had  time  to  use  it  now. 
But  we  haven't  —  not  so  much  as  a  minute  to  spare. 
Besides  the  lances  from  Chapultepec,  there's  a  cavalry 
troop  of  some  kind  —  huzzars  I  take  it  —  coming  on  from 
the  city.  While  we  were  cutting  loose  from  the  carriage, 
I  fancied  I  heard  a  bugle  call  in  the  direction  cityward. 
Of  course,  with  guns  and  bells  signalling,  we  may  expect 
pursuit  from  every  point  of  the  compass.  Had  we  kept  to 
the  roads,  we'd  have  been  met  somewhere.  As  it  is,  if  they 
give  us  another  ten  minutes'  grace,  I'll  take  you  into 
a  place  where  there's  not  much  fear  of  our  being  followed 
—  by  mounted  men,  anyhow." 

Kearney  heard  this  without  comprehending.  Some 
hiding-place,  he  supposed,  known  to  the  Mexican.  It 
could  only  mean  that.  But  where?  Looking  ahead,  he 
saw  the  mountains  with  their  sides  forest-clad,  and  there 
a  fugitive  might  find  concealment  But  they  were  miles 
off;  and  how  were  they  to  be  reached  by  men  afoot  —  to 
say  nothing  of  the  chains  —  with  cavalry  in  hue  and  cry  all 
around  them  ?  He  put  the  question. 


1 82  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

"Don't  be  impatient,  amigo !"  said  the  Mexican  in 
response;  "you'll  soon  see  the  place  I  speak  of,  and  that 
will  be  better  than  any  description  I  could  give.  .  It's  a 
labyrinth  which  would  have  delighted  Daedalus  himself. 
Mira  !  You  behold  it  now !  " 

He  pointed  to  a  facade  of  rock,  grey,  rugged,  and  pre- 
cipitous, trending  right  and  left  through  the  chapparal  far 
as  they  could  see.  A  cliff,  in  short,  though  of  no  great 
elevation ;  on  its  crest,  growing  yuccas,  cactus,  and  stunted 
mezquite  trees. 

"The  Pedregal!"  he  added,  in  a  cheerful  voice,  "and 
glad  am  I  to  see  it.  I've  to  thank  old  Vulcan  or  Pluto  for 
making  such  a  place.  It  has  saved  my  life  once  before, 
and  I  trust  will  do  the  same  now,  for  all  of  us.  But  we 
must  be  quick  about  it.  Adelante!" 

The  horses  were  urged  into  a  final  spurt  of  speed,  arid 
soon  after  arrived  at  the  base  of  the  rocky  escarpment, 
which  would  have  barred  them  further  advance  in  that 
direction,  had  the  intention  been  to  take  them  on.  But  it 
was  not 

"We  must  part  from  them,  now/' said  Rivas.  "Dismount 
all ! " 

All  four  slipped  off  together,  Rock  taking  hold  of  both 
bridles,  as  if  he  waited  to  be  told  what  to  do. 

"  We  mustn't  leave  them  here,"  said  the  Mexican. 
"  They  might  neigh,  and  so  guide  our  pursuers  to  the  spot. 
In  another  hour,  or  half  that,  we  needn't  care ;  it'll  be  dark 
then " 

He  interrupted  himself,  seeming  to  reflect,  which,  the 
Texan  observing,  said  to  Kearney, — 

"  He  weeshes  the  anymals  sent  off,  do  he  ?  w 

"Just  that,  Cris." 

"I  war  thinkin1  o'  thet  same,  meself.  The  groun*  for 
a  good  spell  back  hez  been  hard  as  flint,  an*  we  hain't  left 


DOUBLE    MOUNTED.  183 

much  o'  trail,  nothin'  as  a  set  o'  bunglin*  yaller-bellies  air 
like  ter  take  up.  As  for  startin'  the  horses,  that's  easy  as 
fallin'  off  a  log.  Let  me  do  't" 

"  Do  it." 

•'  Take  holt  o'  one  then,  Cap.  Unbuckle  the  neck  strap 
and  pull  off  the  bridle,  when  you  see  me  do  so  wi'  t'other 
It  is  a  pity  to  act  cruel  to  the  poor  brutes  arter  the  sarvice 
they've  did  us ;  but  thar  ain't  no  help  for  't.  Riddy,  air 
ye?" 

"  Ready ! " 

The  Texan  had  taken  out  his  knife ;  and  in  another 
instant  its  blade  was  through  the  horse's  ear,  the  bridle 
jerked  off  at  the  same  time.  The  animal,  uttering  a 
terrified  snort,  reared  up,  spun  round,  and  broke  away  in 
frenzied  flight  through  the  thorny  chapparal.  The  other, 
also  released,  bounded  after,  both  soon  passing  out  of  sight. 

" Bueno — bravo!"  cried  the  Mexican,  admiringly,  re- 
lieved of  his  dilemma.  "  Now,  sefiors,  we  must  continue 
the  march  afoot,  and  over  ground  that'll  need  help  from 
our  hands,  too.  Vamonos  !  " 

Saying  which,  he  took  up  the  bridles,  and  tossed  them 
over  the  crest  of  the  cliff;  then  ascended  himself,  helping 
Kearney.  There  was  no  path ;  but  some  projections  of 
the  rock — ledges,  with  the  stems  of  cactus  plants  growing 
upon  them  —  made  the  ascent  possible.  The  Texan 
swarmed  up  after,  with  hunchback  at  his  heels ;  as  he  got 
-upon  the  top,  turning  suddenly  round,  laying  hold  of  the 
chain,  and  with  a  "Jee  up,"  hoisting  the  creature  feet 
foremost ! 

Another  second  and  they  were  all  out  of  sight ;  though 
not  a  second  too  soon.  For  as  they  turned  their  backs 
upon  the  cliff,  they  could  hear  behind,  on  the  farther  edge 
of  the  thicket  through  which  they  had  passed,  the  signal 
calls  of  a  cavalry  bugle. 


CHAPTER  XXXVL 
THE  PEDREGAL. 

INTERESTING  as  is  the  Mexican  Valley  in  a  scenic  sense, 
it  is  equally  so  in  the  geological  one ;  perhaps  no  part  of 
the  earth's  crust  of  like  limited  area  offering  greater  attrac- 
tions to  him  who  would  study  the  lore  of  the  rocks.  There 
he  may  witness  the  action  of  both  Plutonic  and  Volcanic 
forces,  not  alone  in  records  of  the  buried  past,  but  still 
existing,  and  too  oft  making  display  of  their  mighty  power 
in.  the  earthquake  and  the  burning  mountain. 

There  also  may  be  observed  the  opposed  processes  of 
deposition  and  denudation  in  the  slitting  up  of  great  lakes, 
and  the  down  wearing  of  hills  by  tropical  rain  storms,  with 
the  river  torrents  resulting  from  them. 

Nor  is  any  portion  of  this  elevated  plateau  more  attrac- 
tive to  the  geologist  than  that  known  as  "  El  Pedregal "  ; 
a  tract  lying  in  its  south-western  corner,  contiguous  to  the 
Cerro  de  Adjusco,  whose  summit  rises  over  it  to  a  height 
of  6,000  feet  and  1 3,000  above  the  level  of  the  sea. 

It  is  a  field  of  lava  vomited  forth  from  Adjusco  itself  in 
ages  long  past,  which,  as  it  cooled,  became  rent  into  fissures 
and  honey-combed  with  cavities  of  every  conceivable  shape. 
Spread  over  many  square  miles  of  surface,  it  renders  this 
part  of  the  valley  almost  impassable.  No  wheeled  vehicle 
can  be  taken  across  it ;  and  even  the  Mexican  horse  and 
mule — both  sure-footed  as  goats — get  through  it  with  diffi- 
"ulty,  and  only  by  one  or  two  known  paths.  To  the 

iestrian  it  is  a  task ;  and  there  are  places  into  which  he 


THE    PEDREGAL.  185 

even  cannot  penetrate  without  scaling  cliffs  and  traversing 
chasms  deep  and  dangerous.     It  bristles  with  cactus,  zuc- 
cas,  and  other  forms  of  crystalline  vegetation,  characteristi 
of  a  barren  soil.     But  there  are  spots  of  great  ferl—'y 
hollows  where  the  volcanic  ashes  were  deposited — fon.J 
little  oasesy  into  which  the  honest  Indian  finds  his  way  I 
purposes  of  cultivation.     Others  less  honest  seek  refuge  in 
its  caves  and  coverts,  fugitives  from  justice  and  the  gaols 
— not  always  criminals,  however,   for  within    it  the  pro- 
scribed patriot  and  defeated  soldier  oft  find  an  asylum. 

In  the  four  individuals  who  had  now  entered  there  was 
all  this  variety,  if  he  who  directed  their  movements  was 
what  the  Condesa  Almonte*  described  him.  In  any  case, 
he  appeared  familiar  with  the  place  and  its  ways,  saying 
to  Kearney,  as  they  went  on, — 

"  No  thanks  to  me  for  knowing  all  about  the  Pedregal. 
I  was  born  on  its  edge;  when  a  boy  bird-nested  and 
trapped  armadilloes  all  over  it.  Twisted  as  this  path  is, 
it  will  take  us  to  a  spot  where  we  needn't  fear  any  soldiers 
following  us — not  this  night  anyhow.  To-morrow  they 
may,  and  welcome." 

Their  march  was  continued,  but  not  without  great  diffi- 
culty, and  much  exertion  of  their  strength.  They  were 
forced  to  clamber  over  masses  of  rock,  and  thread  their 
way  through  thickets  of  cactus,  whose  spines,  sharp  as 
needles,  lacerated  their  skins.  With  the  coupling  chains 
still  on,  it  was  all  the  more  difficult  to  avoid  them. 

Luckily,  they  had  not  far  to  go  before  arriving  at  the 
place  where  their  conductor  deemed  it  safe  to  make  a  stop. 
About  this  there  was  nothing  particular,  more  than  its 
being  a  hollow,  where  they  could  stand  upright  without 
danger  of  being  seen  from  any  of  the  eminences  around. 
Descending  into  it,  Rivas  said, — 

"  Now,  Don   Florencio,  you  can  finish  the  little  job  you 


1 86  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

were  interrupted  at,  without  much  fear  of  having  to  knock 
off  again." 

At  which  he  raised  the  chain,  and  held  it  rested  on 
something  firmer  than  the  cushion  of  a  carriage.  So 
placed,  the  file  made  better  progress,  and  in  a  short  time 
the  link  was  cut  through,  letting  them  walk  freely  apart 

"  Caballero  / "  exclaimed  the  Mexican,  assuming  an 
attitude  as  if  about  to  piopose  a  toast ;  *'  may  our  friend- 
ship be  more  difficult  to  sever  than  that  chain,  and  hold 
us  longer  together — for  life,  I  hope." 

Kearney  would  not  have  been  a  son  of  Erin  to  refuse 
reciprocating  the  pretty  compliment,  which  he  did  with 
all  due  warmth  and  readiness. 

But  his  work  was  not  over.  Rock  and  Zorillo  had  yet 
to  be  uncoupled ;  the  former,  perhaps,  longing  to  be 
delivered  more  than  any  of  the  four.  He  had  conceived 
a  positive  disgust  for  the  hunchback  ;  though,  as  already 
said,  less  on  account  of  the  creature's  physical  than  moral 
deformity,  of  which  last  he  had  ample  evidence  during  the 
short  while  they  were  together.  Nor  had  it  needed  for 
him  to  understand  what  the  latter  said.  A  natural  physi- 
ognomist, he  could  read  in  Zorillo's  eyes  the  evil  disposition 
of  the  animal  from  which  he  drew  his  name. 

As  Kearney  approached  him  with  the  file,  the  Texan 
raising  his  foot,  and  planting  it  on  a  ledge  of  rock,  said, — 

"Cut  through  thar,  Cap. — the  link  as  air  nixt  to  my 
ankle-clasp." 

This  was  different  to  what  had  been  done  with  the 
other,  which  had  been  severed  centrally.  It  was  not  in- 
tended to  take  off  the  whole  of  the  chains  yet.  The 
Mexican  said  there  was  no  time  for  so  much  filing ;  that 
must  be  done  when  they  got  farther  on. 

"Yer  see,  Cap.,"  added  Rock,  giving  a  reason  for  the 
request,  "'fore  it's  all  over,  who  knows  I  mayen't  need 


THE   PEDREGAL.  187 

full  leg  freedom  'ithoot  any  hamper  ?  So  gie  the  dwarf  the 
hul  o'  the  chain  to  carry.  He  desarve  to  hev  it,  or  suthin* 
else,  round  his  thrapple  'stead  o'  his  leg.  This  chile  have 
been  contagious  to  the  grist  o'  queer  company  in  his  per- 
ambulations roun*  and  about ;  but  niver  sech  as  he.  The 
sight  of  him  air  enough  to  give  a  nigger  the  gut  ache." 

And  in  his  quaint  vernacular  he  thus  rambled  on  all 
the  time  Kearney  was  at  work,  his  rude  speech  being  an 
appropriate  symphony  to  the  rasping  of  the  file. 

He  at  the  other  end  of  the  coupling  chain  lay  squatted 
along  the  ground,  saying  not  a  word,  but  his  eyes  full  of 
sparkle  and  mischief,  as  those  of  an  enraged  rattle-snake. 
Still,  there  was  fear  in  his  face ;  for  though  he  could  not 
tell  what  was  being  said,  he  fancied  it  was  about  himself, 
and  anything  but  in  his  favour.  He  was  with  the  other 
three,  but  not  of  them  ;  his  conscience  told  him  that.  He 
was  in  their  way,  too  ;  had  been  all  along,  and  would  be 
hereafter.  What  if  they  took  into  their  heads  to  rid 
themselves  of  him  in  some  violent  manner  ?  They  might 
cut  his  throat  with  one  of  the  knives  he  had  seen  them 
make  such  dexterous  use  of!  Reflecting  in  this  fashion, 
no  wonder  he  was  apprehensive. 

Something  was  going  to  be  done  to  him  different  from 
the  rest,  he  felt  sure.  After  the  chain  had  been  got  apart 
the  other  three  drew  off  to  a  distance,  and  stood  as  if 
deliberating.  It  must  be  about  himself. 

And  about  him  it  was — the  way  to  dispose  of  him. 

"  I  hardly  know  what  we're  to  do  with  the  little  beast," 
said  Rivas.  "  Leave  him  here  loose  we  daren't ;  he'd  slip 
back  again,  good  as  certain,  and  too  soon  for  our  safety. 
If  we  tie  him  he  will  cry  out,  and  might  be  heard.  We're 
not  far  enough  away.  Oiga  /  They're  beating  up  the 
cover  .we've  just  come  out  of.  Yes  ;  they're  in  the  chap- 
faral  now  | " 


1 88  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

It  was  even  so,  as  could  be  told  by  the  occasional  call 
of  a  bugle  sounding  skirmish  signals. 

"  Why  not  tie  and  gag  him,  too?  "  asked  Kearney." 

"  Sure  we  could  do  that.  But  it  wouldn't  be  safe  either. 
They  might  find  their  way  here  at  once.  But  if  they 
didn't  find  it  at  all,  and  no  one  came  along " 

"Ah  !  I  see,"  interrupted  the  Irishman,  as  the  inhuman- 
ity of  the  thing  became  manifest  to  him.     "He  might, 
perish,  you  mean  ? " 

"Just  so.  No  doubt  the  wretch  deserves  it.  From  all 
I've  heard  of  him,  he  does  richly.  But  we  are  not  his 
judges,  and  have  no  right  to  be  his  executioners." 

Sentiments  not  such  as  might  have  been  expected  from 
the  lips  of  a  bandit ! 

"  No,  certainly  not,"  rejoined  Kearney,  hastening  to 
signify  his  approval  of  them. 

"  What  do  you  think  we  should  do  with  him,  Rock  ? " 
he  added,  addressing  himself  to  the  Texan,  who  quite 
comprehended  the  difficulty. 

"  Wai',  Cap. ;  't'ud  be  marciful  to  knock  him  on  the 
head  at  onc't,  than  leave  him  to  gasp  it  out  with  a  stopper 
in  his  mouth ;  as  ye  say  the  Mexikin  thinks  he  mout 
But  thar  ain't  no  need  for  eyther.  Why  not  toat  him 
along  ?  Ef  he  should  bother  us  I  kin  heist  him  on  my 
back,  easy  enuf.  Augly  burden  he'd  be,  tho*  'tain't  for  the 
weight  o'  him." 

The  Texan's  suggestion  was  entertained,  no  other  course 
seeming  safe,  except  at  the  probable  sacrifice  of  the 
creature's  life.  And  that  none  of  them  contemplated  for 
a  moment.  In  fine,  it  was  determined  to  take  him  on. 

The  colloquy  now  coming  to  an  end,  Rivas  and  the 
Irishman  caught  up  the  pieces  of  chain  still  attached  to 
their  ankles,  each  making  the  end  of  his  own  fast  round 
his  wrist,  so  as  not  to  impede  their  onward  march.  This 


THE    PEDREGAL.  189 

done,  they  all  moved  on  again,  the  Mexican,  of  course> 
foremost,  Kearney  at  his  heels.  After  him,  Cris  Rock, 
chain  in  hand,  half  leading,  half  dragging  the  dwarf,  as  a 
showman  might  his  monkey. 

In  this  way  there  was  no  danger  of  his  betraying  them. 
He  could  shout  and  still  have  been  heard  by  those  be- 
hind. But  an  expressive  gesture  of  the  Texan  admonished 
him  that  if  he  made  a  noise,  it  would  be  the  last  of  him. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 
A  SUSPICION  OF  CONNIVANCE, 

"SUSPICIOUS,  to  say  the  least  of  it!  If  a  coincidence, 
certainly  the  strangest  in  my  experience,  or  that  I've  ever 
heard  of.  A  score  of  other  carriages  passing,  and  they  to 
have  chosen  that  one  of  all!  Carrail  it  cannot  have 
been  chance — improbable — impossible  !  " 

So  soliloquised  the  Chief  Magistrate  of  Mexico,  after 
receiving  a  report  of  what  had  occurred  in  the  Calle*  de 
Plateros.  He  had  as  yet  only  been  furnished  with  a 
general  account  of  it ;  but  particularising  the  prisoners 
who  had  escaped,  with  their  mode  of  making  off,  as  also 
whose  carriage  they  had  seized  upon.  He  had  been  told, 
also,  that  there  were  two  ladies  in  it,  but  needed  not  telling 
who  they  were. 

All  this  was  made  known  by  a  messenger  who  came 
post-haste  to  the  Palace,  soon  after  the  occurrence.  He 
had  been  sent  by  Colonel  Santander,  who  could  not  come 
himself;  too  busy  getting  the  Hussars  into  their  saddles 
for  the  pursuit — for  he  it  was  who  led  it.  And  never  did 
man  follow  fugitives  with  more  eagerness  to  overtake  them, 
or  more  bitter  chagrin  in  their  flight. 

Not  much,  if  anything,  less  was  that  of  Santa  Anna 
himself,  as  he  now  sat  reflegting  over  it.  He,  too,  had 
seen  the  two  Texans  with  Rivas  in  the  sewers  ;  the  latter 
a  well-known  enemy  in  war,  and,  as  he  late  believed,  a 
dangerous  rival  in  love.  He  had  glanced  exultingly  at 
>  vrith  the  thought  of  that  danger  past  The  rebel 

191 


A   SUSPICION   OF   CONNIVANCE.  19 1 

proscribed,  and  for  years  sought  for,  had  at  length  been 
found ;  was  in  his  power,  with  life  forfeit,  and  the  deter- 
mination it  should  be  taken.  That  but  a  short  hour  ago, 
and  now  the  doomed  man  was  free  again  ! 

But  surely  not  ?  With  a  squadron  of  cavalry  in  pursuit, 
canon  booming,  bells  ringing,  every  military  post  and 
picket  for  miles  round  on  the  alert,  surely  four  men 
chained  two  and  two,  conspicuous  in  a  grand  carriage, 
could  not  eventually  get  off. 

It  might  seem  so ;  still  the  thing  was  possible,  as  Santa 
Anna  had  reason  to  know.  A  man  of  many  adventures, 
he  had  himself  more  than  once  eluded  a  pursuing  enemy 
with  chances  little  better. 

He  sat  chewing  the  cud  of  disappointment,  though  not 
patiently,  nor  keeping  all  the  time  to  his  chair.  Every 
now  and  then  he  rose  to  his  feet,  made  stumping  exc  JJT- 
sions  round  the  room,  repeatedly  touched  the  bell,  to  in- 
quire whether  any  news  had  been  received  of  the  fugitive 
party. 

T4ie  aide-de-camp  in  attendance  could  not  help  wonder- 
ing at  all  this,  having  had  orders  to  report  instantly  what- 
ever word  should  be  brought  in.  Besides,  why  should  the 
great  Generalissimo  be  troubling  himself  about  so  small  a 
matter  as  the  escape  of  three  or  four  prisoners,  seeming 
excited  as  if  he  had  lost  a  battle. 

The  cause  of  this  excitement  the  Dictator  alone  knew, 
keeping  it  to  himself.  He  was  still  in  the  dark  as  to 
certain  details  of  what  had  transpired,  and  had  sent  for 
the  governor  of  the  Acordada,  who  should  be  able  to 
supply  them. 

Meantime  he  went  alx>ut  muttering  threats  against  this 
one  and  that  one,  giving  way  to  bitter  reflections ;  one 
bitterest  of  all,  that  there  had  been  a  suspicion  of  con- 
nivance at  the  escape  oi  the  prisoners.  But  to  this  there 


THE   FREE   LANCES. 

was  a  sweet  side  as  well ;  so  some  words  uttered  by  him 
would  indicate. 

"  Ah,  Condesa !  You  may  be  clever — you  are.  But  if 
I  find  you've  had  a  hand  in  this,  and  it  can  be  proved  to 
the  world,  never  was  a  woman  in  a  man's  power  more  than 
you'll  be  in  mine.  Title,  riches,  family  influence,  all  will 
be  powerless  to  shield  you.  In  the  cell  of  a  prison  where 
I  may  yet  have  the  pleasure  of  paying  you  a  visit,  you 
won't  be  either  so  proud  or  so  scornful  as  you've  shown 
yourself  in  a  palace  this  same  day.  Veremos — we  shall 
see." 

"  Don  Pedro  Arias." 

It  was  an  aide-de-camp  announcing  the  Governor  of  the 
Acordada. 

"  Conduct  him  in." 

Without  delay  the  prison  official  was  ushered  into  the 
presence,  looking  very  sad  and  cowed-like.  Nor  did  the 
reception  accorded  him  have  a  restoring  influence ;  in- 
stead, the  reverse. 

"What's  all  this  I  hear?"  thundered  out  the  disposer  of 
punishments  and  of  places ;  "  you've  been  letting  your 
prisoners  bolt  from  you  in  whole  batches.  I  suppose  by 
this  time  the  Acordada  will  be  empty." 

"  Excellentissinio  !  I  am  very  sorry  to  say  that  four  of 
them " 

"  Yes  ;  and  of  the  four,  two  of  them  you  had  orders  to 
guard  most  strictly — rigorously." 

"  I  admit  it,  Sire,  but " 

"  Sirrah  !  you  needn't  waste  words  excusing  yourself. 
Your  conduct  shall  be  inquired  into  by-and-by.  What  I 
want  now  is  to  know  the  circumstances — the  exact  par- 
ticulars of  this  strange  affair.  So  answer  the  questions  I 
put  to  you  without  concealment  or  prevarication." 

The  gaol-governor,  making  humble  obeisance,  silently 


A   SUSPICION   OF   CONNIVANCE.  1 93 

awaited  the  examination,  as  a  witness  in  the  box  who 
fears  he  may  himself  soon  stand  in  the  dock. 

"  To  begin  :  why  did  you  send  those  four  prisoners  out 
with  the  chain-gang  ? " 

"  By  order  of  Colonel  Santander,  Sire.  He  said  it  was 
your  Excellency's  wish/' 

"  Humph  !  Well,  that's  comprehensible.  And  so  far 
you're  excusable.  But  how  came  it  you  didn't  see  to  their 
being  better  guarded  ? " 

"  Sire,  I  placed  them  in  charge  of  the  chief  turnkey — a 
man  named  Dominguez — whom  I  had  found  most  trust- 
worthy on  other  occasions.  To-day  being  exceptional,  on 
account  of  the  ceremonies,  he  was  pressed  to  take  drink, 
and,  I'm  sorry  to  say,  got  well-nigh  drunk.  That  will 
explain  his  neglect  of  duty." 

"  It  seems  there  were  two  ladies  in  the  carriage.  You 
know  who  they  were,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  By  inquiry  I  have  ascertained,  your  Excellency.  One 
was  the  Countess  Almonte*,  the  other  Don  Luisa  Valverde, 
as  your  Excellency  will  know,  the  daughter  of  him  to 
whom  the  equipage  belonged." 

"  Yes,  yes.  I  know  all  that.  I  have  been  told  the 
carriage  made  stop  directly  opposite  to  where  these  men 
were  at  work.  Was  that  so  ? " 

"  It  was,  Sire/' 

"  And  have  you  heard  how  the  stoppage  came  about  ? " 

"  Yes,  Excellent  is  simo.  The  horses  shied  at  something, 
and  brought  the  wheels  into  a  bank  of  mud.  Then  the 
cochero>  who  appears  to  be  a  stupid  fellow,  pulled  them  up, 
when  he  ought  to  have  forced  them  on.  While  they  were 
at  rest  the  four  forzados  made  a  rush,  two  right  into  the 
carriage,  the  other  two  up  to  the  box  ;  one  of  these  last, 
the  big  Tejano,  getting  hold  of  the  reins  and  whip,  and 
driving  off  at  a  gallop.  They  had  only  one  sentry  to  pass 

0 


194  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

in  the  direction  of  San  Francisco.  He,  like  Dominguez, 
was  too  far  gone  in  drink,  so  there  was  nothing  to  stop 
them — except  the  guards  at  the  garitas.  And,  I  am  sorry 
to  say,  the  sergeant  at  El  Nino  Perdita  let  them  pass 
through  without  so  much  as  challenging.  His  account  is 
that,  seeing  the  carriage  belonged  to  one  of  your  Excel- 
lency's Ministers,  he  never  thought  of  stopping  it,  and 
should  not.  Why  should  he,  Sire  ?  " 

This  touch  of  obsequious  flattery  seemed  to  mollify  the 
Dictator's  wrath,  or  it  had  by  this  otherwise  expended 
itself,  as  evinced  by  his  rejoinder  in  a  more  tranquil  tone. 
Indeed,  his  manner  became  almost  confidential. 

"  Don  Pedro,"  he  said,  "  I'm  satisfied  with  the  explana- 
tion you  give,  so  far  as  regards  your  own  conduct  in  the 
affair.  But  now,  tell  me,  do  you  think  the  ladies  who 
were  in  the  carriage  had  anything  to  do  with  the  drawing 
up  of  the  horses  ?  Or  was  it  all  an  accident  ?  " 

"  Will  your  Excellency  allow  me  a  moment  to  reflect  ? 
I  had  thought  something  of  that  before  ;  but " 

"Think  of  it  again.  Take  time,  and  give  me  your 
opinion.  Let  it  be  a  truthful  one,  Don  Pedro  ;  there's 
much  depending  on  it." 

Thus  appealed  to,  the  gaol-governor  stood  for  a  time 
silent,  evidently  cudgelling  his  brains.  He  made  mental 
review  of  all  that  had  been  told  him  about  the  behaviour 
of  the  young  ladies,  both  before  they  were  turned  out  of 
the  carriage  and  after.  He  was  himself  aware  of  certain 
relations,  friendly  at  least,  supposed  to  exist  between  one 
of  them  and  one  of  the  escaped  prisoners,  and  had  thought 
it  strange,  too,  that  particular  equipage  being  chosen. 
Still,  from  all  he  could  gather,  after  ample  inquiry,  he 
was  forced  to  the  conclusion  that  the  thing  was  unpre- 
meditated— at  least  on  the  part  of  the  ladies. 

This  was  still  his  belief,  after  reflecting  as  he  had  been 


A   SUSPICION    OF   CONNIVANCE.  1 95 

enjoined  to  do.  In  support  of  it  he  stated  the  facts  as 
represented  to  him,  how  the  Senoritas  had  been  forced 
from  their  carriage,  almost  pitched  into  the  street,  their 
costly  dresses  dirtied  and  damaged,  themselves  showing 
wildest  affright.  Still,  this  was  strange,  too,  on  the  part  of 
the  Condesa  ;  and,  in  fine,  Don  Pedro,  after  further  cross- 
questioning,  was  unable  to  say  whether  there  had  been 
connivance  or  not. 

After  giving  such  an  unsatisfactory  account  of  the  matter 
he  was  dismissed,  rather  brusquely ;  and  returned  to  the 
Acordada,  with  an  ugly  apprehension  that  instead  of  con- 
tinuing governor  of  this  grand  gaol,  with  a  handsome  salary 
and  snug  quarters,  he  might  ere  long  be  himself  the  occu- 
pant of  one  of  its  cells,  set  apart  for  common  prisoners* 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 
THE  REPORT  OF  THE  PURSUER. 

WITH  unappeased  impatience  the  Dictator  awaited  the 
return  of  the  pursuing  party,  or  some  news  of  it.  The 
last  he  in  time  received  at  first  hand  from  the  lips  of  its 
leader,  who,  after  nightfall,  had  hastened  back  to  the  city 
and  reported  himself  at  the  Palace. 

"  You  have  taken  them  ?  "  interrogated  Santa  Anna,  as 
the  Hussar  officer,  no  longer  in  a  glitter  of  gold  lace,  but 
dim  with  sweat  and  dust,  was  ushered  into  his  presence. 

He  put  the  question  doubtingly  ;  indeed,  from  the  ex- 
pression of  Santander's  face,  almost  sure  of  receiving  a 
negative  answer.  Negative  it  was, — 

"  Not  yet,  Sire ;  I  regret  to  say  they  are  still  at  large." 

The  rejoinder  was  preceded  by  a  string  of  exclamatory 
phrases,  ill  becoming  the  Chief  of  the  State.  But  Santa 
Anna,  being  a  soldier,  claimed  a  soldier's  privilege  of  swear- 
ing, and  among  his  familiars  was  accustomed  to  it  as  any 
common  trooper.  After  venting  a-strong  ebullition  of  oaths, 
he  calmed  down  a  little,  saying, — 

"  Give  me  a  mil  account  of  what  youVe  seen  and  done.''' 

This  was  rendered  in  detail,  from  the  time  of  the  pursuit 
being  entered  upon  till  it  had  ended  abortively,  by  the 
coming  on  of  night. 

Chancing  to  be  in  the  Maza,  the  Colonel  said,  when  word 
reached  him  of  what  had  occurred  in  the  Calle  de  Plateros, 
he  made  all  haste  to  pursue  with  a  squadron  of  Hussars. 

191 


THE  REPORT  OF  THE  PURSUFR,        197 

Why  he  took  so  many,  was  that  he  might  be  able  to  send 
a  force  along  every  road,  in  case  it  should  be  necessary. 

He  found  the  escapades  had  gone  out  by  El  Nino  Perdido, 
the  sergeant  on  guard  there  allowing  them  to  go  past. 

"  See  that  he  be  put  under  arrest !  " 

"  He's  under  arrest  now,  your  Excellency.  I  had  that 
done  as  I  was  returning." 

"  Proceed  with  your  relation  ! n 

Which  Santander  did,  telling  how  he  had  followed  the 
fugitive  party  along  the  San  Angel  Road,  and  there  met 
a  troop  of  Lancers  from  Chapultepec.  Some  field-labourers 
had  seen  a  carriage  turn  off  towards  Coyoacan  ;  and  taking 
that  route  he  soon  after  came  up  with  it.  It  was  stopped 
on  the  roadside :  empty,  horses  gone,  the  harness  strewed 
over  the  ground  hacked  and  cut ;  the  cochero  strapped  to 
one  of  the  wheels,  and  gagged  with  the  handle  of  his 
whip ! 

When  the  man  was  released  he  could  tell  nothing  more 
than  that  the  four  had  mounted  his  horses,  a  pair  upon 
each,  and  galloped  off  across  the  country,  on  a  sort  of 
bridle  path,  as  if  making  for  the  San  Antonio  Road. 

Turning  in  that  direction,  Santander  soon  discovered 
that  they  had  entered  into  a  tract  of  chapparal ;  and  while 
this  was  being  searched  for  them,  the  unharnessed  horses 
were  observed  rushing  to  and  fro  in  frenzied  gallop,  rider- 
less of  course.  When  caught,  it  was  seen  why  they  were 
now  excited,  one  of  them  having  its  ear  slit,  the  blood  still 
dropping  from  the  wound. 

The  chapparal  was  quartered  in  every  direction  ;  but  he 
soon  came  to  the  conclusion  it  was  no  use  searching  for 
them  there. 

K  Carramba  !  "  interrupted  his  listener ;  "  of  course  not 
I  know  the  place  well.  And  if  you,  Seftor  Colonel,  were 
as  well  acquainted  with  that  chapparal^  and  what  lies  along- 


T*«E   FREE    LANCES. 

iide  it,  as  one  of  those  you  were  after,  you'd  have  dropped 
the  search  sooner.  You  needn't  tell  me  more  ;  I  can  guess 
the  finish;  they  got  off  into  the  Pedregal." 

u  So  it  would  seem,  your  Excellency." 

"  Seem !  So  it  is,  por  cierto.  And  looking  for  them 
there  would  be  so  much  lost  time.  Around  your  native 
city,  New  Orleans,  there  are  swamps  where  the  runaway 
slave  manages  to  hide  himself.  He'd  have  a  better  chance 
of  concealment  here,  among  rocks,  in  that  same  quarter 
you've  just  come  from.  It's  a  very  labyrinth.  But  what 
did  you  afterwards?  You  may  as  well  complete  your 
narrative." 

"  There  is  not  much  more  to  tell,  Sire ;  for  little  more 
could  we  do.  The  darkness  came  on,  as  we  discovered 
they  had  taken  to  the  rocks." 

"You  did  discover  that  ?  " 

"  Yes,  your  Excellency.  We  found  the  place  where  they 
had  gone  up  over  a  sort  of  cliff.  There  were  scratches 
made  by  their  feet,  with  a  branch  broken  off  one  of  the 
cactus  plants  ;  some  of  the  sewer  mud,  too,  was  on  the 
rock.  But  there  was  no  path,  and  I  saw  it  would  be  use- 
less carrying  the  pursuit  any  further  till  we  should  have 
the  light  of  morning.  I've  taken  every  precaution,  how- 
ever, to  prevent  their  getting  out  of  the  Pedregal." 

"  What  precautions  ? " 

"  By  completely  enfilading  it,  Sire.  I  sent  the  Lancers 
round  by  San  Geromino  and  Contreras ;  the  Hussars,  to 
go  in  the  opposite  direction  by  San  Augustin.  They  have 
orders  to  drop  a  picket  at  every  path  that  leads  from  it; 
till  they  meet  pn  the  other  side." 

"  Well,  Sefior  Colonel,  your  strategy  is  good.  I  don't 
see  that  you  could  have  done  better  under  the  circum- 
stances. But  it's  doubtful  whether  we  shall  be  able  to  trap 
our  foxes  in  the  Pedregal.  One  of  them  knows  its  paths 


THE  REPORT  OF  THE  PURSUER.        1 99 

too  well  to  let  night  or  darkness  hinder  his  travelling  along 
them.  He'll  be  through  it  before  your  pickets  can  get  to 
their  stations.  Yes-;  and  off  to  a  hiding-place  he  has  else- 
where— a  safer  one — somewhere  in  the  Sierras.  Confound 
those  Sierras  with  their  caverns  and  forests.  They're  full 
of  my  enemies,  rebels,  and  robbers.  But  I'll  have  them 
rooted  out,  hanged,  shot,  till  I  clear  the  country  of  dis- 
affection. Carajo  !  I  shall  be  master  of  Mexico,  not  only 
in  name,  but  deeds.  Emperor  in  reality !  " 

Excited  by  the  thought  of  unrestrained  rule  and  dreams 
of  vengeance — sweet  to  the  despot  as  blood  to  the  tiger — 
he  sprang  out  of  his  chair,  and  paced  to  and  fro,  gesticu- 
lating in  a  violent  manner. 

"  Yes,  Seftor  Colonel ! "  he  continued  in  tone  satisfied 
as  triumphant.  "  Other  matters  have  hindered  me  from 
looking  after  these  skulking  prescripts.  But  our  victory 
over  the  Tejanos  has  given  me  the  power  now,  and  I 
intend  using  it.  These  men  must  be  recaptured  at  all  cost 
— if  it  take  my  whole  army  to  do  it.  To  you,  Don  Carlos 
Santander,  I  entrust  the  task— its  whole  management. 
You  have  my  authority  to  requisition  troops,  and  spend 
whatever  money  may  be  needed  to  ensure  success.  And," 
he  added,  stepping  close  to  his  subordinate,  and  speaking 
in  a  confidential  way,  "  if  you  can  bring  me  back  Ruperto 
Rivas,  or  his  head  so  that  I  can  recognise  it,  I  shall  thank 
you  not  as  Colonel,  but  as  General  Santander." 

The  expression  upon  his  face  as  he  said  this  was  truly 
Satanic.  Equally  so  that  on  his  to  whom  the  horrid  hint 
was  given.  Alike  cruel  in  their  instincts,  with  aims  closely 
corresponding,  it  would  be  strange  if  the  fugitive  prisoners 
were  not  retaken. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 
UP  THE  MOUNTAIN. 

*  WE'RE  going  to  have  a  night  black  as  charcoal,"  said 
Rivas,  running  his  eye  along  the  outline  of  the  Cordilleras, 
and  taking  survey  of  the  sky  beyond. 

"  Will  that  be  against  us  ? "  queried  the  young  Irish- 
man. 

"  In  one  way,  yes  ;  in  another,  for  us.  Our  pursuers  will 
be  sure  to  ride  all  round  the  Pedregal,  and  leave  a  picket 
wherever  they  see  the  resemblance  of  path  or  trail  leading 
out.  If  it  were  to  come  on  moonlight — as  luckily  it  won't 
—we'd  had  but  a  poor  chance  to  get  past  them  without 
being  seen.  And  that  would  signify  a  fight  against 
awkward  odds — numbers,  arms,  everything.  We  must 
steal  past  somehow,  and  so  the  darkness  will  be  in  our 
favour." 

As  may  be  deduced  from  this  snatch  of  dialogue,  they 
were  still  in  the  Pedregal.  But  the  purple  twilight  was 
now  around  them,  soon  to  deepen  into  the  obscurity  of 
night ;  sooner  from  their  having  got  nearly  across  the  lava 
field,  and  under  the  shadow  of  Ajusco,  which,  like  a  black 
wall,  towered  up  against  the  horizon.  They  had  stooped 
for  a  moment,  Rivas  himself  cautiously  creeping  up  to  an 
elevated  spot,  and  reconnoitring  the  ground  in  front. 

"  It  will  be  necessary  for  us  to  reach  the  mountains  before 
morning,"  he  added  after  a  pause.  "  Were  we  but  common 
gaol-birds  who  had  bolted,  it  wouldn't  much  signify,  and 
we'd  be  safe  here  for  days,  or  indeed  for  ever.  The  authori- 
se 


UP   THE   MOUNTAIN.  2OI 

ties  <5f  Mexico,  such  as  they  are  at  present,  don't  show 
themselves  very  zealous  in  the  pursuit  of  escaped  criminals. 
But  neither  you  nor  I,  Senor  Kearney,  come  under  that 
category — unluckily  for  us,  just  now — and  the  Pedregal, 
labyrinth  though  it  be,  will  get  surrounded  and  explored 
— every  inch  of  it  within  the  next  forty-eight  hours.  So 
out  of  it  we  must  move  this  night,  or  never." 

Twilight  on  the  table-lands  of  the  western  world  is  a 
matter  of  only  a  few  minutes :  and,  while  he  was  still 
speaking,  the  night  darkness  had  drawn  around  them.  It 
hindered  them  not  from  proceeding  onwards,  however,  the 
Mexican  once  more  leading  off,  after  enforcing  upon  the 
others  to  keep  close  to  him,  and  make  no  noise  avoidable. 

Another  half-hour  of  clambering  over  rocks,  with  here 
and  there  a  scrambling  through  thickets  of  cactus,  and  he 
again  came  to  a  stop,  all,  of  course,  doing  the  same.  This 
time  to  use  their  ears,  rather  than  eyes  ;  since  around  all 
was  black  as  a  pot  of  pitch,  the  nearest  object,  rock  or 
bush,  being  scarcely  visible. 

For  a  time  they  stood  listening  intently.  Not  long, 
however,  before  hearing  sounds — the  voices  of  men — and 
seeing  a  glimmer  of  light,  which  rose  in  radiation  above 
the  crest  of  a  low  ridge  at  some  distance  ahead. 

"  UnfiqAetl"  pronounced  Rivas,  in  a  half- whisper. 

u  Soto  en  la puerto — mozo  /"  (knave  in  the  door — winner) 
came  a  voice  in  a  long-drawn  accentuation,  from  the  direc- 
tion of  the  light. 

"  Good  !  "  mutteringly  exclaimed  the  Mexican,  on  hearing 
it  "  They're  at  their  game  of  montt.  While  so  engaged, 
not  much  fear  they'll  think  of  aught  else.  I  know  the 
spot  they're  in,  and  a  way  that  will  take  us  round  it.  Come 
on,  camarados  I  The  trick's  ours  !  " 

Sure  enough  it  proved  so.  A  path  that  showed  no  sign 
of  having  ever  been  trodden,  but  still  passable,  led  out  past 


2O2  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

• 

the  gambling  soldiers,  without  near  approach  to  them. 
And  they  were  still  absorbed  in  their  game — as  could  be 
told  by  its  calls  every  now  and  then  drawled  out,  and 
sounding  strange  in  that  solitary  place.  Ruperto  Rivas 
conducted  his  trio  of  companions  clear  of  the  Pedregal, 
and  beyond  the  line  of  enfiladement. 

In  twenty  minutes  after  they  were  mounting  the  steep 
slope  of  the  Cerro  Ajusco,  amid  tall  forest  trees,  with  no 
fear  of  pursuit  by  the  soldiers,  than  if  separated  from  them 
by  a  hundred  long  leagues. 

After  breasting  the  mountain  for  some  time,  they  paused 
to  take  breath,  Rivas  saying, — 

"  Well,  caballeros,  we're  on  safe  ground  now,  and  may 
rest  a  bit.  It's  been  a  close  shave,  though  ;  and  we  may 
thank  our  stars  there  are  none  in  the  sky — nor  moon. 
Look  yonder  !  They're  at  it  yet  '  Soto  en  la  puerto— 
mozb!  '  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  " 

He  referred  to  a  faint  light  visible  at  a  long  distance 
below,  on  the -edge  of  the  Pedregal,  where  they  had  passed 
that  of  a  picket  fire-camp,  which  enabled  the  montt  players 
to  make  out  the  markings  on  their  cards. 

"  We  may  laugh  who  have  won,"  he  added,  now  seem- 
ingly relieved  from  all  apprehension  of  pursuit 

Nevertheless  the  fugitive  party  stayed  but  a  short  while 
there  ;  just  long  enough  to  recover  wind.  The  point  they 
were  making  for  was  still  further  up  the  mountain,  though 
none  of  them  could  tell  where  save  Rivas  himself.  He 
knew  the  place  and  paths  leading  to  it,  and  well ;  other- 
wise he  could  not  have  followed  them,  so  thick  was  the 
darkness.  In  daylight  it  would  have  been  difficult  enough, 
yawning  chasms  to  be  crossed  barransas — with  cliffs  to  be 
climbed,  in  comparison  with  which  the  escarpments  of  the 
Pedregal  were  but  as  garden  walls. 

In  a  groping  way,  hand  helping  hand,  all  were  at  length 


UP   THE    MOUNTAIN. 

got  up  and  over,  as  the  tolling  of  distant  church  bells,  down 
in  the  valley  below,  proclaimed  the  hour  of  midnight.  Just 
then  Rivas,  once  more  making  a  stop,  plucked  a  leaf  from 
one  of  the  grass  plants  growing  by,  and  placing  it  between 
his  lips  gave  out  a  peculiar  sound,  half  screech,  half  whistle 
— a  signal  as  the  others  supposed  ;  being  assured  it  was,  by 
the  response  soon  after  reaching  their  ears. 

The  signal  was  given  again,  with  some  variations ; 
responded  to  in  like  manner.  Then  a  further  advance  up 
the  mountain,  and  still  another  halt ;  this  time  at  hearing 
the  hail : 

«Quien  viva!" 

"El  Capitan  !"  called  out  Rivas  in  answer,  and  received 
for  rejoinder  first  an  exclamation  of  delighted  surprise, 
then  words  signifying  permission  to  approach  and  pass. 

The  approach  was  not  so  easy,  being  up  a  steep  incline, 
almost  a  cliff.  But  on  reaching  its  crest  they  came  in 
sight  of  the  man  who  had  challenged,  standing  on  a  ledge 
of  rock.  A  strange-looking  figure  he  seemed  to  Kearney 
and  the  Texan,  wearing  a  long  loose  robe,  girded  at  the 
waist — the  garb  of  a  monk,  if  the  dim  light  was  not  deceiv- 
ing them ;  yet  with  the  air  of  a  soldier,  and  sentinel- 
fashion,  carrying  a  gun ! 

He  was  at  "  present  arms  "  when  they  got  up  opposite  ; 
and  wondering,  but  without  saying  aught,  they  passed 
him — their  conductor,  after  a  momentary  pause  and  a 
muttered  word  to  him,  leading  on  as  before. 

Another  ascent,  this  time  short,  but  still  almost  pre- 
cipitous, and  this  climbing  came  to  an  end. 


CHAPTER  XL. 
A  FAITHFUL  STEWARD. 

THE  spot  where  they  had  now  made  stop — final  for  the 
night — was  still  far  below  the  summit  of  the  mountain. 
It  was  a  sort  of  platform  or  bench,  formed  by  the  crest  o" 
a  projecting  spur,  the  cliff  rising  sheer  at  its  back.  Its 
level  surface  was  only  a  few  acres  in  extend,  supporting  a 
thick  growth  of  tall  evergreen  pines,  the  long-leaved  species 
indigenous  to  Mexico.  Centrally  there  was  a  place  clear 
of  timber,  which  ran  up  to  the  cliff's  base,  or  rather  to  a 
building  contiguous  to  it.  In  front  of  this  they  halted, 
Rivas  saying, — 

"  Behold  my  humble  abode,  caballeros  !  Let  me  bid  you 
welcome  to  it" 

There  was  light  enough  to  let  them  see  a  massive  pile  of 
mason  work  outlined  against  the  cliff's  facade,  while  too 
dim  for  them  to  distinguish  its  features.  They  could  make 
out,  however,  what  appeared  to  be  a  pair  of  windows  with 
pointed  arches,  and  between  them  a  large  doorway,  seem- 
ing more  like  the  mouth  of  a  cavern.  Out  of  this  came  a 
faint  scintillation  of  light,  and  as  they  drew  up  to  it,  a 
candle  could  be  seen  burning  inside  a  sort  of  covered 
porch,  resembling  the  lych-gate  of  a  country  church. 
There  were  some  stone  benches  outside,  from  one  of  which 
a  man  started  up  and  advanced  toward  them,  as  he  did  so 
putting  the  formal  question, — 

"Quienes?" 

*  Yot  Gregorio  /  n  was  the  answer  given  by  Rivas. 

804 


A   FAITHFUL   STEWARD.  2O5 

"  El  Capitan  !  "  exclaimed  the  questioner,  in  a  tone  also 
telling  of  pleased  surprise.  "  And  free  again  !  I'm  so  glad, 
Don  Rupertot  Praise  to  the  Lord  for  delivering  you  !  " 

1  Thanks,  good  Gregorio  !  And  while  you're  about  it, 
you  may  as  well  give  part  of  your  praise  to  a  lady,  who 
had  something  to  do  with  it — indeed,  two  of  them." 

"Ah!  Senor  Capitan,  I  think  I  know  one  of  them"  any- 
how, and  in  all  Mexico  I  can  say — ay,  swear  it " 

"  True,  true  !  "  interrupted  the  Captain.  "  But  stay  your 
asseveration.  There's  no  time  to  talk  about  the  Senoritas 
now.  My  friends  and  I  are  in  want  of  something  to  eat. 
We're  as  hungry  as  coyotes.  What  have  you  got  in  the 
larder  ?  " 

"  Not  much,  I  fear,  your  worship.  And  the  cook's  gone 
to  bed,  with  everybody  else.  But  they'll  only  be  too  de- 
lighted to  get  up  when  they  hear  it's  your  worship  come 
back.  Shall  I  go  and  rouse  them,  Senor  ?  " 

"  No,  no.  Let  them  sleep  it  out.  Any  cold  thing  wil] 
do  for  us.  WVre  as  much  fatigued  as  famished,  and  wish 
to  be  in  bed  ourselves  as  soon  as  possible.  So  look  out 
whatever  eatables  there  are,  and  don't  forget  the  drink- 
ables, I  trust  the  cellar  isn't  as  low  as  the  larder  ? " 

"  No,  Senor.  Of  that  I  can  speak  with  more  confidence. 
Not  a  cork  has  been  drawn  since  you  left  us — I  mean  of 
the  best  wines.  Only  the  common  Canario  was  drunk  in 
your  absence." 

"  In  that  case,  mayor-domo,  we  may  sup  satisfactorily, 
so  far  as  the  liquids  are  concerned,  should  the  solids  prove 
deficient  Bring  a  bottle  of  Burgundy,  another  of  the 
Brown  Madeira,  and,  let  me  see — yes,  one  of  old  Pedro 
Ximenes.  I  suppose  the  brethren  have  used  up  all  my 
best  cigars  ? w 

"  Not  one  of  them,  Senor.  The  Havannahs  have  been 
jjnder  lock  and  key,  too.  I  gave  out 


THE   FREE   LANCES. 

"  What  a  faithful  steward  you've  proved  yourself,  Gre- 
gorio  !  Well,  along  with  the  wine,  let  us  have  a  bundle  of 
Imperadores.  We  haven't  tasted  tobacco  for  days,  and 
are  all  dying  for  a  smoke." 

By  this  time  they  had  entered  the  porch,  and  were 
passing  on  through  a  long  corridor,  still  more  dimly 
illuminated.  But  there  was  light  issuing  from  a  side-door, 
which  stood  open.  By  this  Rivas  made  stop,  with  word 
and  gesture  signifying  to  the  others  to  pass  on  inside, 
which  they  did.  Not  all  of  them,  however  ;  only  Kearney 
and  Rock.  A  different  disposition  he  meant  making  of 
the  dwarf  than  giving  him  Burgundy  and  Madeira  to 
drink,  with  the  smoking  of  "  Emperor  "  cigars.  Pointing 
to  the  crooked  semblance  of  humanity,  at  which  Gregorio 
was  gazing  with  a  puzzled  air,  he  whispered  to  the  latter, — 

"Take  the  beast  back,  and  shut  him  up  in  one  of  the 
cells.  You  may  give  him  something  to  eat,  but  see  to  his 
being  securely  kept.  Insignificant  as  he  looks,  there's 
mischief  in  him,  and  he  might  take  it  into  his  head  to 
stray.  You  comprehend,  Gregorio  ?  " 

"  I  do,  your  worship.     I'll  take  care  to  stow  him  safe." 

Saying  which,  the  mayor-domo  of  the  establishment,  for 
such  Gregorio  was,  caught  the  hunchback  by  one  of  his 
ears — grand  auricles  they  were — and  led  him  away  along 
the  corridor,  with  the  prison  chain  trailing  behind. 

Rivas  did  not  stay  till  they  were  out  of  sight,  but  turn- 
ing, stepped  inside  the  room  into  which  he  had  ushered 
the  other  two. 

It  was  rather  a  large  apartment,  but  plainly  and  sparsely 
furnished ;  a  deal  table  and  half  a  dozen  common  chairs, 
with  leathern  backs  and  bottoms,  such  as  may  be  seen  in 
most  Mexican  houses.  It  was  better  supplied  with  arms 
than  household  effects  ;  several  guns  standing  in  corners, 
with  swords  hanging  against  the  walls,  and  a  variety  of 


A   FAITHFUL   STEWARD.  2OJ 

accoutrements — all  giving  it  more  the  appearance  of  a 
guard-house  than  the  reception-room  of  a  gentleman's 
mansion. 

"Now,  amigos?  said  the  Mexican,  after  rejoining  his 
guests,  on  whose  faces  he  could  not  fail  to  note  an  odd 
inquiring  expression,  "  I  can  at  last  say  to  you,  feel  safe,  if 
I  can't  assure  you  of  a  supper  good  as  I'd  wish  to  give. 
Still,  if  I  mistake  not,  'twill  be  superior  to  our  prison  fare. 
Por  Dios  !  Having  to  put  up  with  that  was  punishment 
enough  of  itself,  without  being  set  to  work  in  the  sewers." 

"  Ah,"  remarked  Kearney,  speaking  for  himself  and  the 
Texan,  "  had  you  been  one  of  us  prisoners  from  Mier  up 
to  Mexico,  the  diet  you  complain  of  would  have  seemed 
luxury  for  Lucullus." 

"  Indeed  !     What  did  they  give  you  to  eat  ?  " 

"  Brown  beans  only  half  boiled,  tortillas,  usually  cold  ; 
and  sometimes,  for  a  whole  stretch  of  twenty-four  hours, 
nothing  at  all." 

"  Carramba  !  "  exclaimed  the  Mexican.  "That  was  hard 
usage.  But  nothing  to  surprise.  Just  as  Santa  Anna 
might  be  expected  to  treat  his  captive  enemies,  whether 
of  his  own  people,  or  as  yourselves,  foreigners.  More 
cruel  tyrant  never  ruled  country.  But  his  reign,  thank 
Heavenr  will  not  be  long.  I've  reason  for  saying  that,  and 
better  still  for  thinking  it." 

The  little  interlude  of  dialogue  was  brought  to  a  close 
by  the  entrance  of  the  mayor-domo  loaded  with  bottles 
and  glasses.  He  had  orders  to  bring  the  wine  first,  the 
cigars  along  with  it. 

Lumping  all  down  upon  the  table,  he  left  them  to  wait 
upon  themselves,  while  he  went  off  to  ransack  the  pantry 
soon  to  return  with  a  sufficiency  of  viands,  and  savoury 
enough  to  satisfy  men  who  had  just  come  out  of  the 
Acordada.  There  was  cold  mutton,  ham,  and  venison, 


208  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

maize  bread,  and  "  guesas  de  Gautemala,"  with  a  variety 
of  fruit  to  follow.  Verily  a  supper  at  which  even  a  gour- 
mand might  not  cavil ;  though  it  was  but  the  dtbris  of  a 
dinner,  which  seemed  to  have  been  partaken  of  by  a  goodly 
array  of  guests. 

Not  long  lingered  they  over  it,  before  whom  it  was  set 
a  second  time.  Overcome  by  the  toil  and  struggle  of  days, 
and  more  the  mental  worry  attendant,  even  the  wine  freely 
quaffed  failed  to  excite  them  afresh.  Rest  and  sleep  they 
more  needed  and  much  desired  ;  all  glad  when  Gregorio 
again  showed  his  face  at  the  door,  saying, — 

"  Caballeros,  your  sleeping  rooms  are  ready." 


CHAPTER  XLI. 
ANXIOUS   HOURS, 

"  SEE,  Luisita !    Yonder  go  soldiers  1 " 

"Where?" 

"  Along  the  calzada  of  Nifio  Perdido — under  the  trees—- 
by the  thick  clump — they're  galloping  !  " 

"  Santissima,  yes  !  I  see  them  now.  O  Ysabel !  if  they 
overtake  the  carriage !  Ay  Dios  !  " 

"Ay  Dios,  indeed  !  It's  to  be  hoped  they  won't,  though. 
And  I  have  less  fear  of  it  now  than  ever.  It  must  have 
gone  that  way,  or  the  soldiers  wouldn't  be  there ;  and  as 
it  couldn't  have  stopped  at  the  garita,  it  should  now  be 
a  good  distance  on.  Keep  up  your  heart,  amiga  mia,  as  I 
do  mine.  They'll  soon  be  safe,  if  they're  not  yet." 

This  exclamatory  dialogue  was  carried  on  while  the 
alarm  bells  were  still  ringing,  and  the  guns  booming.  The 
speakers  were  on  the  azotea  of  Don  Ignacio's  house,  up  to 
which  they  had  hastened  soon  as  home — having  dismissed 
their  escort  below,  and  left  orders  for  no  visitors  to  be  ad- 
mitted. 

In  the  mirador,  with  opera-glasses  to  their  eyes,  they  had 
been  scanning  the  roads  which  led  south  and  south-west 
from  the  city.  Only  for  a  few  minutes,  as  they  had  but 
just  got  back,  and  as  the  carriage  having  already  rounded 
the  turning  to  Cayoacan,  they  saw  but  the  pursuing  soU 
diers.  Those  were  the  Hussars,  with  Santander  at  their 
head,  though  the  ladies  knew  not  that. 

Fortified   by  the  hopeful  speech  of  the  Condesa,  the 

109  p 


2IO  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

other  responded  to  it  with  an  added  word  of  hope,  and  a 
prayer  for  the  safe  escape  of  those  they  were  concerned 
about. 

Then  for  a  while  both  remained  silent,  with  the  lorgn- 
ettes to  their  eyes,  following  the  movements  of  the 
soldiers  along  the  road.  Soon  these  were  out  of  sight,  but 
their  whereabouts  could  be  told  by  the  cloud  of  white  dust 
which  rose  over  the  trees,  gradually  drifting  farther  and 
farther  off. 

At  length  it  too  disappeared,  settling  down  ;  and  as  the 
bells  ceased  to  ring,  and  the  cannon  to  be  fired,  the  city, 
with  all  around  it,  seemed  restored  to  its  wonted  tran- 
quillity. 

But  not  so  the  breasts  of  Luisa  Valverde  and  Ysabel 
Almonte*.  Far  from  tranquil  they;  instead,  filled  with 
anxiety,  keen  as  ever.  And  now,  as  much  on  their  own 
account  as  for  those  they  had  been  aiding  to  escape.  In 
their  haste  to  effect  this,  they  had  taken  no  thought  of 
what  was  to  come  after.  But  it  was  now  forced  upon  them. 
As  they  looked  back  on  what  they  had  themselves  done — 
the  part  they  had  been  playing,  with  all  its  details  of  action 
— apprehensions  hitherto  unfelt  began  to  steal  over  them, 
growing  stronger  the  longer  they  dwelt  upon  them. 

But  what  would  be  the  upshot  of  all  ? 

What  if  the  carriage  got  overtaken  with  the  fugitives  in 
it,  and  beside  them  those  knives  and  pistols,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  file?  A  gentleman's  cloak  too,  with  mango  and 
serape  !  Odd  assortment  of  articles  for  ladies  to  take  out 
on  an  airing !  They  had  no  fear  of  the  cochero  betraying 
them  ;  but  this  paraphernalia  surely  would,  if  it  fell  into 
the  hands  of  the  pursuers.  They  might  expect  investiga- 
tion, anyhow  ;  but  these  things,  if  produced,  would  bring 
about  an  exposure  unavoidable. 

No  wonder  at  their  soon  becoming  seriously  alarmed, 


ANXIOUS   HOURS.  211 

henceforth  nervously  agitated.  And  they  had  no  one  to 
take  council  with.  Soon  after  their  coming  home,  Don 
Ignacio,  seeing  and  hearing  of  what  happened,  had  sallied 
forth  to  make  inquiries,  and  direct  pursuit  Furious  about 
his  fine  carnage  and  horses  carried  off,  he  little  draamt  that 
along  with  them  were  his  duelling  pistols  and  blue  broad- 
cloth cloak. 

Nor  would  it  do  to  tell  him  of  those  matters,  unless  they 
made  up  their  minds  to  confess  all,  and  fling  themselves 
on  his  affection  more  than  his  mercy.  Of  course  he  was 
still  in  the  dark  about  their  doings — unsuspicious  man-— 
had  not  even  been  told  who  the  forzados  were  that  had 
taken  away  his  equipage. 

Closeted  alone,  for  some  time  the  alarmed  ladies  could 
not  think  of  what  they  ought  to  do.  They  did  not  yield 
to  despair,  however ;  instead,  kept  on  scheming  and  con- 
sidering how  they  might  meet  the  worst — if  the  worst 
came. 

But  one  way  seemed  plausible — even  possible — that 
depending  on  Don  Ignacio.  If  they  could  prevail  on  him 
to  tell  a  falsehood,  all  might  be  well.  Only  to  say  the 
carriage  had  been  made  ready  for  a  journey  to  his  casa  de 
campo,  whither  he  had  intended  to  proceed  that  same  even- 
ing, taking  his  daughter  and  the  Condesa  along  with  him, 
That  would  explain  the  presence  of  the  weapons  ;  no  un- 
common thing — rather  the  rule — for  carriage  travellers  to 
take  such  with  them,  even  going  but  outside  the  suburbs 
of  the  city.  For  good  reason,  there  being  footpads  and 
robbers  everywhere.  And  the  cloaks  for  protection  against 
the  night  air ! 

In  this  way  they  groped  about,  as  drowning  people 
clutch  at  sticks  and  straws,  still  without  being  able  to  get  rid 
of  their  apprehensions.  Even  should  Don  Ignacio  agree 
to  the  deception  they  thought  of— he  would,  no  doubt, 


212  THE   FREE    LANCES. 

when  made  aware  of  their  danger — it  was  questionable 
whether  it  "would  serve  them.  For  there  was  a  file  too — a 
small  matter,  but  a  most  conspicuous  link  in  the  chain 
of  circumstantial  evidence  against  them.  They  in  the 
carriage  would  have  been  using  it,  before  being  taken — if 
they  should  be  taken.  Finally,  the  worst  of  all,  the  rela- 
tions known  to  exist  between  themselves  and  two  of  the 
men  attempting  escape. 

A  miserable  time  it  was  for  them  during  the  remainder 
of  that  afternoon  and  evening  ;  a  struggle  amid  doubts, 
fears,  and  conjectures.  Nor  did  Don  Ignacio's  return  home 
in  any  way  relieve  them.  They  were  not  yet  prepared  to 
surrender  up  their  secret  even  to  him.  The  time  had  not 
come  for  that 

As  the  hours  passed,  things  began  to  look  better,  and 
the  suspense  easier  to  bear.  No  report  from  the  pursuers, 
which  there  would  or  should  have  been,  were  the  pursued 
taken. 

Something  better  still,  at  length.  Jose*  back  home  with 
the  carriage  and  horses,  and  nothing  besides — no  weapons 
nor  spare  wraps  !  All  gone  off,  the  tell-tale  file  along  with 
them. 

Pepita  brought  this  intelligence  in  to  the  ladies,  who 
longed  to  have  a  private  interview  with  the  cochero.  But 
he  had  first  to  deliver  his  to  Don  Ignacio,  who  had  sallied 
out  into  the  stables  to  receive  it. 

A  strange  tale  it  was,  imparted  to  an  angry  listener, 
who,  while  listening,  looked  upon  his  costly  harness,  patched 
and  mended  with  ropes,  where  it  had  been  cut.  His  fine 
frisones  too,  abused,  possibly  injured  for  good,  the  ear  of 
one  of  them  well-nigh  severed  from  the  head  !  Slow 
to  wrath  though  he  was,  this  was  enough  to  make  him 
wrathful,  without  the  further  knowledge  of  his  other 
losses,  about  which  Jose*  took  care  not  to  enlighten  him. 


ANXIOUS    HOURS.  213 

At  a  later  hour  the  circumspect  cochero  told  his  tale  to 
other  ears  in  terms  somewhat  different,  and  with  incidents. 
His  master,  summoned  to  the  Palace,  gave  the  opportunity 
so  much  desired  by  his  young  mistress  and  the  Condesa  for 
speaking  with  him  ;  and  he  was  soon  in  their  presencef 
getting  interrogated  with  a  volubility  which  made  sober 
reply  almost  impossible. 

His  questioners,  however,  after  a  time  calming  down, 
listened  to  his  narration  in  a  detailed  form,  though  not 
without  repeated  interruptions.  He  told  them  about  the 
slow  driving  of  the  carnage  along  the  garden  wall  of  San 
Francisco,  the  putting  on  the  disguises,  and  how  cleverly 
they  had  outwitted  the  guard  at  the  garita. 

"  Like  Ruperto ! "  at  this  juncture  exclaimed  the 
Countess. 

Then,  of  their  onward  course  along  the  calzada,  horses 
in  a  gallop,  till  stopped  on  the  Coyoacan  road,  with  the 
action  taken  there — quick  as  it  was  varied  and  strange. 

Donna  Luisa,  in  her  turn,  here  interrupted  in  triumphant 
exclamation, — 

"  Like  Florencio  !  " 

In  fine,  when  made  known  to  them  how  the  fugitives 
had  mounted  and  ridden  off,  both  cried  out  together,  in 
terms  almost  the  same, — 

"Thanks  to  the  Virgin,  blessed  Mother  of  God!  We 
now  know  they  are  safe." 

Their  confidence  was  strengthened  by  further  question- 
ing, for  the  trusted  cochero  was  able  to  tell  them  more. 
How  his  horses  had  been  caught,  and  brought  back  to  him 
by  two  Hussars,  one  of  whom  he  chanced  to  have  a  speak- 
ing acquaintance  with.  From  the  soldier  he  had  learnt  all 
about  the  pursuit,  after  it  had  passed  beyond  him  ;  how^they 
had  searched  the  chapparal,  but  fruitlessly  ;  the  latest 
reports  being  that  the  escapades  had  got  into  the  Pedregal 


214  THE   FREE    LANCES. 

That  was  enough  for  the  Countess,  who,  springing  to  her 
feet  and  clapping  her  hands,  cried  out, — 

"  Joy,  Luisita  !  They're  safe,  I'm  sure.  Ruperto  knows 
the  Pedregal,  every  path  through  it,  as  well  as  we  the 
walks  of  the  Alameda.  I  shall  sleep  this  night  better  than 
the  last,  and  you  may  do  the  same." 

So  assured,  Luisa  Valverde,  devout  as  was  her  wont, 
responded  with  a  phrase  of  thanksgiving,  arms  crossed 
over  her  bosom,  eyes  turned  to  the  picture  of  Santa  Gua- 
dalupe  on  the  wall. 

Jose*  stood  waiting,  not  for  any  reward.  Recompense 
for  the  service  he  had  done  them — so  modestly  declaring 
it — was  not  in  his  thoughts  at  that  moment,  though  it 
might  be  after.  But  the  Condesa  was  thinking  of  it  then. 
Sure  to  promise  and  contract,  she  said  to  him, — 

"  Faithful  fellow — courageous  as  faithful — take  this  ; 
you've  fairly  earned  it." 

Whilst  speaking,  she  drew  the  jewelled  watch  from  her 
waist,  and,  passing  the  chain  over  her  head,  held  it  out  to 
him. 

"And  this  too!"  added  the  Donna  Luisa,  plucking  a 
diamond  ring  from  one  of  her  fingers,  and  presenting  it  at 
the  same  time. 

"No!"  protested  the  faithful  servitor.  "Neither  the 
one  nor  the  other.  Enough  reward  to  me  to  know  I've 
done  your  ladyship  a  service — if  I  have." 

"  But,  good  Jose*,"  urged  the  Countess,  "  you  must  either 
take  my  watch  or  the  worth  of  it  in  gold  doblones  !  That 
was  the  understanding,  and  I  shall  insist  on  your  adhering 
to  it." 

" Mny  bein,  Condesa;  I  consent  to  that.  But  only  on 
the  condition  that  the  gentlemen  get  safe  off.  Till  we're 
sure  of  that,  I  beg  your  ladyship  won't  look  upon  me  as  a 
creditor." 


ANXIOUS    HOURS.  2  15 

u  If  her  ladyship  should,"  here  put  in  a  third  personage 
of  the  sex  feminine,  who  had  just  entered  upon  the  scene, 
"  if  she  should,  I'll  pay  the  debt  myself.  I  pay  it  now — - 
there ! " 

It  was  Pepita  who  thus  delivered  herself,  as  she  did  so 
bounding  forward,  flinging  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and 
giving  him  a  sonorous  kiss  upon  the  cheek !  Then,  as  she 
released  her  lips  after  the  smack,  adding, — 

"I've  given  you  that,  hombre,  for  what?  Why  nothing 
more  than  doing  your  duty.  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  " 

The  laughter  neither  disconcerted  nor  vexed  him.  It 
was  not  scornful,  while  the  kiss  had  been  very  sweet.  Long 
coveted,  but  hitherto  withheld,  he  looked  upon  it  as  an 
earnest  of  many  others  to  follow,  with  a  reward  he  would 
more  value  than  all  the  watches  and  rings  in  Mexico — the 
possession  of  Pepita  herself. 


CHAPTER  XLIk 
A  HOLY  BROTHERHOOD. 

*  WHERE  the  deuce  am  1  ?  " 

It  was  Florence  Kearney  who  asked  this  question,  in- 
terrogating himself ;  time,  the  morning  after  their  retreat 
up  the  mountain.  He  was  lying  on  a  low  pallet,  or  rathet 
bench  of  mason  work,  with  a  palm  mat  spread  over  it,  his 
only  coverlet  the  cloak  he  had  brought  with  him  from  Don 
Ignacio's  carriage.  The  room  was  of  smallest  dimensions, 
some  eight  or  nine  feet  square,  pierced  by  a  single  window, 
a  mere  pigeon-hole  without  sash  or  glass. 

He  was  yet  only  half  awake,  and,  as  his  words  show, 
with  but  a  confused  sense  of  his  whereabouts.  His  brain 
was  in  a  whirl  from  the  excite  ment  through  which  he  had 
been  passing,  so  long  sustained.  Everything  around  seemed 
weird  and  dream-like. 

Rubbing  his  eyes  to  make  sure  it  was  a  reality,  and 
raising  his  head  from  the  hard  pillow,  he  took  stock  of 
what  the  room  contained.  An  easy  task  that.  Only  a 
ricketty  chair,  on  which  lay  a  pair  of  duelling  pistols — one 
of  the  pairs  found  under  the  carriage  cushions — and  his 
hat  hanging  on  its  elbow.  Not  a  thing  more  except  a 
bottle,  greasy  around  the  neck,  from  a  tallow  candle  that 
had  guttered  and  burnt  out,  standing  on  the  uncarpeted 
stone  floor  beside  his  own  boots,  just  as  he  had  drawn  them 
off. 

Why  he  had  not  noticed  these  surroundings  on  the  night 
before  was  due  to  extreme  fatigue  and  want  of  sleep. 


A    HOLY    BROTHERHOOD.  217 

Possibly,  the  Burgundy,  mixed  with  the  Madeira  and  Old 
Pedro  Ximenes,  had  something  to  do  with  it.  In  any  case 
he  had  dropped  down  upon  the  mat  of  palm,  and  became 
oblivious,  almost  on  the  moment  of  his  entering  this 
strange  sleeping  chamber,  to  which  the  mayor-domo  had 
conducted  him. 

"  Queer  crib  it  is,'1  he  continued  to  soliloquise,  after 
making  survey  of  the  room  and  its  containings,  "  for  a  bed- 
room. I  don't  remember  ever  having  slept  in  so  small  a 
one,  except  aboard  ship,  or  in  a  prison-cell.  How  like  the 
last  it  looks  !  " 

It  did  somewhat,  though  not  altogether.  There  were 
points  of  difference,  as  a  niche  in  the  wall,  with  a  plaster 
cast  on  a  plinth,  apparently  the  image  of  some  saint,  with 
carvings  in  the  woodwork,  crosses,  and  other  emblems  of 
piety. 

"  It  must  be  an  old  convent  or  monastery,"  he  thought, 
after  noticing  these.  "  Here  in  Mexico  they  often  have 
them  in  odd,  out-of-the-way  places,  I've  heard.  Out  of 
the  way  this  place  surely  is,  considering  the  climb  we've 
had  to  reach  it.  Monks  in  it,  too  ?  "  he  added,  recalling 
the  two  men  he  had  seen  on  the  preceding  night,  and  how 
they  where  habited.  "  A  strange  sort  they  seem,  with  a 
captain  at  their  head — my  prison  companion  !  Well,  if  it 
give  us  sanctuary,  as  he  appears  to  think  it  will,  I  shall 
be  but  too  glad  to  join  the  holy  brotherhood." 

He  lay  a  little  longer,  his  eyes  running  around  the  room, 
to  note  that  the  rough  limewash  on  its  walls  had  not  been 
renewed  for  years  ;  green  moss  had  grown  upon  them,  and 
there  were  seams  at  the  corners,  stains  showing  were  rain- 
water had  run  down.  If  a  monastery,  it  was  evidently  not 
one  in  the  enjoyment  of  present  prosperity,  whatever  it 
might  have  been  in  the  past. 

While  still  dreamily  conjecturing  about  it,  the  door  of 


2l8  THE   FREE    LANCES. 

his  room  was  gently  pushed  ajar,  and  so  held  by  whoever 
had  opened  it.  Turning  his  head  round,  Kearney  saw  a 
man  in  long  loose  robes,  with  sandalled  feet  and  shaven 
crown,  girdle  of  beads,  crucifix,  cowl,  and  scapular — in 
short,  the  garb  of  the  monk  with  all  its  insignia. 

"  I  have  come  to  inquire  how  you  have  slept,  my  son," 
said  the  holy  man,  on  seeing  that  he  was  awake.  "  I  hope 
that  the  pure  atmosphere  of  this,  our  mountain  home— so 
different  from  that  you've  been  so  lately  breathing — will 
have  proved  conducive  to  your  slumbers." 

"  Indeed,  yes,"  rejoined  he  inquired  after,  conscious  of 
having  slept  well.  "  I've  had  a  good  night's  rest — the  best 
allowed  me  for  a  long  time.  But  where " 

While  speaking,  he  had  dropped  his  feet  to  the  floor, 
and  raised  himself  erect  on  the  side  of  the  bed,  thus  bring- 
ing him  face  to  face  with  the  friar.  What  caused  him  to 
leave  the  interrogatory  unfinished  was  a  recognition.  The 
countenance  he  saw  was  a  familiar  one,  as  might  be  ex- 
pected after  having  been  so  close  to  his  own — within  a  few 
feet  of  it — for  days  past.  No  disguise  of  dress,  nor  changed 
tonsure,  could  hinder  identification  of  the  man  who  had 
partaken  of  his  chain  in  the  Acordada  ;  for  he  it  was. 

"  Oh !  'tis  yoB,  Don  Ruperto ! "  exclaimed  Kearney, 
suddenly  changing  tone. 

"The  same,  my  son,"  rejoined  the  other,  with  an  air  of 
mock  gravity. 

At  which  the  young  Irishman  broke  out  into  a  loud 
guffaw,  saying  : — 

"Well,  you're  the  last  man  I  should  ever  have  sup- 
posed to  be  a  monk  !  " 

He  recalled  some  strong  denunciations  of  the  Holy 
Brethren  he  had  heard  pass  the  lips  of  his  late  fellow- 
prisoner. 

"  Ah  1  Sefior  Don  Florencio,  in  this  our  world  of  Mexico, 


A   HOLY   BROTHERHOOD.  219 

v;e  are  called  upon  to  play  many  parts,  and  make  our 
home  in  many  places,  Yesterday,  you  knew  me  as  a 
prisoner,  like  yourself  in  a  loathsome  gaol ;  to-day,  you 
see  me  in  a  monastery.  And  no  common  monk,  but  an 
Abbot,  for  know,  amijo  mio,  that  I  am  the  head  of  this 
establishment.  But  come !  As  your  host  I  am  not  now 
playing  the  part  I  should.  You  must  be  half  famished  ; 
besides,  your  toilet  needs  attending  to.  For  the  first, 
breakfast  will  be  ready  by  the  time  you  have  looked  to 
the  last.  Here,  Gregorio !  "  this  was  a  call  to  the  mayor- 
domo  outside,  who  instantly  after  appeared  at  the  door. 
"  Conduct  this  gentleman  to  the  lavatory,  and  assist  him 
in  making  his  ablutions."  Then  again  tc  Kearney  :  "  If  I 
mistake  not,  you  will  find  a  clean  shirt  there,  with  some 
other  changes  of  raiment.  And  may  I  ask  you  to  be 
expeditious  ?  It  has  got  to  be  rather  a  late  hour  for 
breakfast,  and  the  Holy  Brethren  will  be  getting  a  little 
impatient  for  it.  But,  no  doubt,  your  appetite  will  prompt 
you.  Has  fa  Luega  /  " 

With  which  salutation — the  Mexican  custom  at  parting 
for  only  a  short  while — he  passed  out  of  the  room,  leaving 
his  guest  to  be  looked  after  by  Gregorio. 

Surrendering  himself  to  the  mayor-domo,  Kearney  was 
conducted  to  an  outer  room,  in  which  he  found  a  wash- 
stand  and  dressing-table,  with  towel  and  other  toilet 
articles — all,  however,  of  the  commonest  kind.  Even  so, 
they  were  luxuries  that  had  been  long  denied  him — 
especially  the  water,  a  constant  stream  of  which  ran  into 
a  stone  basin  from  some  pure  mountain  spring. 

And,  sure  enough,  the  clean  shirt  was  there,  with  a  full 
suit  of  clothes ;  velveteen  jacket,  calzoneras  calzoncillas, 
scarf  of  China  crape — in  short,  the  complete  costume  of  a 
ranchero.  A  man  of  medium  size,  they  fitted  him  nicely  ; 
and  arrayed  in  them  he  made  a  very  handsome  appearance. 


22O  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

"Now,  your  honour,"  said  the  individual  in  charge  of 
him,  "  allow  me  to  show  you  the  Refectory." 

Another  turn  along  the  main  passage  brought  them  to 
the  door,  from  which  issued  a  buzz  of  voices.  His  host  had 
prepared  him  to  expect  company,  and  on  stepping  inside 
this  door  he  saw  it  in  the  shape  of  some  twenty-five  or  thirty 
men,  all  in  the  garb  of  monks  of  the  same  order  as  Rivas 
himself. 

The  room  was  a  large  one,  saloon  shape,  with  a  tabld 
standing  centrally,  around  which  were  benches  and  chair?. 
A  cloth  was  spread  upon  it,  with  a  multifarious  and  some- 
what heterogeneous  array  of  ware — bottles  and  glasses 
being  conspicuous  ;  for  it  was  after  eleven  o'clock,  and  the 
meal  almuerzo,  as  much  dinner  as  breakfast.  The  viands 
were  being  put  upon  it  ;  three  or  four  Indian  youths,  not 
in  convent  dress,  passing  them  through  a  hatch  that  com- 
municated with  the  kitchen,  and  from  which  also  came  a 
most  appetising  odour. 

All  this  the  young  Irishman  took  in  with  a  sweep  of  his 
eye,  which  instantly  after  became  fixed  upon  the  friars  who 
had  faced  towards  him.  They  were  standing  in  two  or 
three  groups,  the  largest  gathered  round  an  individual  who 
towered  above  all  of  them  by  the  head  and  shoulders. 
Cris  Rock  it  was,  clean  shaven,  and  looking  quite  respect- 
able ;  indeed,  better  dressed  than  Kearney  had  seen  him 
since  he  left  off  his  New  Orleans  "  store  "  clothes.  The 
Colossus  was  evidently  an  object  of  great  interest  to  his 
new  acquaintances  ;  and,  from  the  farcical  look  upon  their 
faces,  it  was  clear  they  had  been  doing  their  best  to  "draw" 
him.  With  what  success  Kearney  could  not  tell ;  though, 
from  the  knowledge  he  had  of  his  old  comrade's  clever- 
ness, he  suspected  not  much.  ^  There  was  just  time  for  him 
to  note  the  jovial  air  of  the  Brethren,  so  little  in  keeping 
with  the  supposed  gravity  of  the  monastic  character,  when 


A   HOLY   BROTHERHOOD.  221 

the  Abbot  entering  led  him  up  to  them,  and  gave  him  a 
general  introduction. 

"  Hermanos  !  "  he  said,  "  let  me  present  another  of  my 
comrades  in  misfortune,  the  Sefior  Don  Florencio  Kearney 
— an  Irlandes — who  claims  the  hospitality  of  the  convent/' 

They  all  made  bow,  some  pressing  forward,  and  extend- 
ing hands. 

But  there  was  no  time  for  dallying  over  salutations.  By 
this  several  dishes  had  been  passed  through  the  hatch,  and 
were  steaming  upon  the  table.  So  the  Abbot  took  seat  at 
its  head,  Kearney  beside  him  ;  while  the  Texan  was  be- 
stowed at  its  foot,  alongside  one  who  seemed  to  act  as 
vice-chairman. 

If  the  table-cloth  was  not  one  of  the  finest  damask,  nor 
the  ware  costliest  china  and  cut  glass,  the  repast  was  worthy 
of  such.  In  all  the  world  there  is  no  cuisine  superior  to 
that  of  Mexico.  By  reason  of  certain  aboriginal  viands, 
which  figured  on  the  table  of  that  Aztec  sybarite,  Monte- 
zuma,  it  beats  the  cuisine  of  old  Spain,  on  which  that  of 
France  is  founded,  and  but  an  insipid  imitation. 

The  monks  of  this  mountain  retreat  evidently  knew  how 
to  live,  course  after  course  being  passed  through  the  hatch 
in  a  variety  which  seemed  as  if  it  would  never  end  There 
were  pucheros,  guisados,  tomales,  and  half  a  score  of  other 
dishes  Kearney  had  never  before  heard  of,  much  less 
tasted.  No  wonder  at  their  dinner  of  the  preceding  day 
having  left  such  debris  for  supper. 

And  the  wines  were  in  correspondence — in  quality,  pro- 
fusion, everything.  To  Kearney  it  recalled  "  Bolton  Abbey 
in  the  olden  time."  Nor  ever  could  the  monks  of  that 
ancient  establishment  on  the  Wharfe  have  drunk  better 
wines,  or  laughed  louder  while  quaffing  them,  than  they 
whose  hospitality  he  was  receiving  on  the  side  of  the  Cerro 
Ajusco, 


222  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

Seme  strange  speech,  however,  he  heard  passing  around 
him,  little  in  consonance  with  what  might  be  supposed  to 
proceed  from  the  lips  of  religious  men.  But,  possibly,  just 
such  as  came  from  those  of  the  Tintern  and  Bolton  Brethren 
when  around  the  refectory  table.  Not  all  of  it,  though. 
If  the  talk  was  worldly,  it  savoured  little  of  wickedness—* 
far  less  than  that  of  the  cowled  fraternity  of  olden  times, 
if  chronicles  are  to  be  trusted.  And  never  in  convent  hall 
could  have  been  heard  such  toast  as  that  with  which  the 
breakfast  was  brought  to  a  close,  when  Rivas,  rising  to 
his  feet,  goblet  in  hand,  the  others  standing  up  along  with 
him,  cried  out, — 

"PatriayLibertad!" 

Country  and  Liberty!  Strange  sentiment  in  such  • 
place,  and  to  be  received  with  acclaim  by  such  people ! 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 
WHAT   ARE   THEY? 

THE  repast  finished,  the  Holy  Brethren,  rising  from  the 
table  together,  forsook  the  Refectory.  Some  disappeared 
into  cloisters  on  the  sides  of  the  great  hallway,  others 
strolled  out  in  front,  and  seating  themselves  on  benches 
that  were  about,  commenced  rolling  and  smoking  cigar- 
ittos, 

The  Abbot,  excusing  himself  to  his  stranger  guests,  on 
plea  of  pressing  business,  was  invisible  for  a  time.  So 
they  were  permitted  to  betake  themselves  apart.  Good 
manners  secured  them  this.  The  others  naturally  sup- 
posed they  might  want  a  word  in  private,  so  no  one  offered 
to  intrude  upon  them. 

Tust  what  they  did  want,  and  had  been  anxiously  long- 
ing for.  They  had  mutually  to  communicate  ;  questions 
to  be  asked,  and  counsel  taken  together.  Each  was  burn- 
ing to  know  what  the  other  thought  of  the  company  they 
had  fallen  into  ;  the  character  of  which  was  alike  perplex- 
ing to  both. 

*  After  getting  hold  of  their  hats  they  sauntered  out  by 
the  great  door,  through  which  they  had  entered  on  the 
night  before.  The  sun  was  now  at  meridian  height,  and 
his  beams  fell  down  upon  the  patch  of  open  ground  in 
front  of  the  monastery,  for  a  monastery  they  supposed  it 
must  be.  A  glance  backward  as  they  walked  out  from  its 
walls  showed  its  ar^«*ac£ure  purely  of  the  conventual 


224  THE    FREE   LANCES. 

style  ;  windows  with  pointed  arches,  the  larger  ones  heavy 
mullioned,  and  a  campanile  upon  the  roof.  This,  however, 
without  bells,  and  partially  broken  down,  as  was  much  of 
the  outer  mason  work  everywhere.  Here  and  there  were 
walls  crumbling  to  decay,  others  half-hidden  under  masses 
of  creeping  plants  and  cryptogams;  in  short,  the  whole 
structure  seemed  more  or  less  dilapidated. 

Soon  they  entered  under  the  shadow  of  the  trees ;  long- 
leaved  evergreen  pines  loaded  with  parasites  and  epi- 
phytes, among  these  several  species  of  orchids — rare  phe- 
nomenon in  the  vegetable  world,  that  would  have  delighted 
the  eye  of  a  botanist.  As  they  wished  to  get  beyond  ear- 
shot of  those  left  lounging  by  the  porch,  they  continued 
on  along  a  walk  which  had  once  been  gravelled,  but  was 
now  overgrown  with  weeds  and  grass.  It  formed  a  cool 
arcade,  the  thick  foliage  meeting  overhead,  and  screening 
it  from  the  rays  of  the  sun.  Following  it  for  about  a 
hundred  yards  or  so,  they  again  had  the  clear  sky  before 
them,  and  saw  they  were  on  the  brow  of  a  steep  slope — 
almost  a  precipice — which,  after  trending  a  short  distance 
right  and  left,  took  a  turn  back  toward  the  mass  of  the 
mountain.  It  was  the  boundary  of  the  platform  on  which 
the  building  stood,  with  a  still  higher  cliff  behind. 

The  point  they  had  arrived  at  was  a  prominent  one, 
affording  view  of  the  whole  valley  of  Mexico,  that  lay 
spread  out  like  a  picture  at  their  feet.  And  such  a  pic- 
ture !  Nothing  in  all  the  panoramic  world  to  excel-  -if 
equal  it. 

But  as  scenery  was  not  in  their  thoughts,  they  gave  it 
but  a  glance,  sitting  down  with  faces  turned  towards  one 
another.  For  there  were  seats  here  also — several  rustic 
chairs  under  shady  trees — it  being  evidently  a  favourite 
loitering  place  of  the  friars. 

*'  Well,  Cris,  old  comrade/'  said  Kearney,  first  to  speak, 


WHAT   ARE   THEY  22$ 

*  we've  gone  through  a  good  deal  this  day  or  two  in  the 
\vay  cf  change.  What  do  you  think  of  these  new  acquaint- 
ances of  ours  ? " 

"  Thar,  Cap.,  ye  put  a  puzzler." 

"  Are  they  monks  ?  " 

"  Wai,  them  is  a  sort  o'  anymals  I  hain't  had  much  deal- 
in's  vvi' ;  niver  seed  any  till  we  kim  inter  Mexiko,  'ceptin' 
one  or  two  as  still  hangs  round  San  Antone  in  Texas. 
But  this  chile  knows  little  u'  thar  ways,  only  from  what 
he's  heerin' ;  an'  judgin'  be  that  he'd  say  thar  ain't  nerry 
monk  among  'em." 

«  What  then  ?     Robbers  ?  " 

"  Thar,  agin,  Cap.,  I'm  clean  confuscated.  From  what 
we  war  told  o'  Mr.  Reevus  'in  the  gaol,  they  oughter  be 
that.  They  sayed  he  war  a  captain  o'  saltadores,  which 
means  highwaymen.  An'  yet  it  do  'pear  kewrous  should 
be  sich." 

"  From  what  I  know  of  him,"  rejoined  Kearney,  "  what 
I  learned  yesterday,  it  would  be  curious  indeed — remark- 
ably so.  I've  reason  to  believe  him  a  gentleman  born,  and 
that  his  title  of  captain  comes  from  his  having  been  an 
officer  in  the  army." 

"  That  mou't  be,  an'  still  wouldn't  contrary  his  havin' 
turned  to  t'other.  Down  by  the  Rio  Grande,  thar  are 
scores  o'  Mexikin  officers  who've  did  the  same,  from  loo- 
tenants  up  to  kurnels — ay,  ginrals.  Thar's  Canales,  who 
commanded  the  whole  cavalry  brigade — the  '  Chaperai 
fox '  as  we  Texans  call  him — an'  thar  ain't  a  wuss  thief 
or  cut-throat  from  Mantamoras  up  to  the  mountains.  An* 
what  air  ole  Santy  hisself  but  a  robber  o'  the  meanest  an' 
most  dastardly  sort  ?  So,  'tain't  any  sign  o'  honesty  their 
bearing  military  titles.  When  they've  a  war  on  in  thar 
revolushionary  way,  they  turn  sogers,  atween  times  takin' 
to  &e  roa^" 

Q 


226  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

"  Well,  Cris,  supposing  these  to  be  on  the  road  now, 
what  ought  we  to  do,  think  you  ?  " 

"  Neery  use  thinkin',  Cap.,  since  tharvs  no  choice  left  us. 
Tain't  die  dog,  or  eet  the  hatchet ;  and  this  chile  goes  for 
chawin'  the  steel.  Whativer  they  be,  we're  bound  to  stick 
to  'em,  an*  oughter  be  glad  o'  the  chance,  seein*  we  haint 
the  shadder  o1  another.  If  tuk  agin'  we'd  be  strung  up  or 
shot  sure.  Highwaymen  or  lowwaymen,  they're  the  only 
ones  about  these  diggin's  that  kin  gie  us  purtekshun,  an1 
I  reck'n  we  may  rely  on  them  for  that — so  far's  they're 
able." 

For  a  time  Kearney  was  silent,  though  not  thinking 
over  what  the  Texan  had  said,  much  of  which  had  passed 
through  his  mind  before.  The  train  of  his  reflections  was 
carried  further  back,  to  the  point  where  he  was  first 
brought  into  contact  with  Rivas,  by  their  legs  getting 
linked  together.  Then  forward  throughout  the  hours  and 
incidents  that  came  after,  recalling,  everything  that  had 
occurred,  in  act  as  in  conversation — mentally  reviewing  all, 
in  an  endeavour  to  solve  the  problem  that  was  puzzling 
them. 

Seeing  him  so  occupied,  and  with  a  suspicion  of  how 
his  thoughts  were  working,  the  Texan  forebore  further 
speech,  and  awaited  the  result 

"If  we've  fallen  among  banditti,"  Kearney  at  length 
said,  "  it  will  be  awkward  to  get  away  from  them.  They'll 
want  us  to  take  a  hand  at  their  trade,  and  that  wouldn't 
be  nice." 

"  Sartinly  not,  Cap. ;  anything  but  agreeable  to  eyther 
o*  us.  It  goes  agin  the  grit  o'  a  honest  man  to  think  o1 
belongin'  to  a  band  o'  robbers.  But  forced  to  jine  'em, 
that  'ud  be  different.  Besides,  the  thing  ain't  the  same  in 
Mexico  as  'tvvud  be  in  Texas  and  the  States.  Hyar  'tisn't 
looked  on  as  beein'  so  much  o'  a  disgrace,  s'long's  they 


WHAT    ARE    THEY?  227 

don't  practize  cruelty.  An'  I've  heern  Mexikms  say  'tain't 
wuss,  nor  yet  so  bad,  as  the  way  some  our  oun  poltishuns 
an'  lawyers  plunder  the  people.  I  guess  it  be  'bout  the 
same,  when  one  gits  used  to  it." 

To  this  quaint  rigmarole  of  reasoning — not  without  rea- 
son in  it,  however, — Kearney  only  replied  with  a  smile, 
allowing  the  Texan  to  continue  ;  which  he  did,  saying,— 

"After  all,  I  don't  think  they're  robbers  any  more  than 
monks ;  if  they  be,  they're  wonderfully  well-behaved.  A  per- 
liter  set  o'  fellers  or  better  kump'ny  this  chile  niver  war  in 
durin'  the  hull  coorse  of  his  experience  in  Texas,  or  other- 
whars.  They  ain't  like  to  lead  us  into  anythin'  very  bad, 
in  the  way  o'  cruelty  or  killin'.  So  I  say,  let's  freeze  to 
'em,  till  we  find  they  ain't  v/orthy  of  being  froze  to ;  then 
we  must  gie  'em  the  slip  somehow." 

"Ah!  if  we  can,"  said  his  fellow- filibuster  doubtingly. 
"  But  that  is  the  thing  for  the  far  hereafter.  The  question 
is,  what  are  we  to  do  now  ?  " 

"  No  guess'n  at  all,  Cap.,  as  thar's  no  choosin'  atween. 
We're  boun'  to  be  robbers  for  a  time,  or  whatsomever  else 
these  new  'quaintances  o'  ours  be  themselves.  Thet's  sure 
as  shootin'." 

"True,"  returned  the  other  musingly.  "There  seems 
no  help  for  it.  It's  our  fate,  old  comrade,  though  one,  I 
trust,  we  shall  be  able  to  control  without  turning  highway- 
men. I  don't  think  they  are  that.  I  can't  believe  it." 

"  Nor  me  neyther.  One  thing,  howsomever,  thet  I  hev 
obsarved  air  a  leetle  queery,  an'  sort  o'  in  thar  favour." 

"  What  thing  ?  " 

"Thar  not  hevin'  any  weemen  among  'em.  I  war  in 
the  kitchen  this  mornin'  'fore  ye  war  up,  and  kedn't  see 
sign  o'  a  petticoat  about,  the  cookin'  bein'  all  done  by  men 
sarvents.  Thet,  I've  heern  say,  air  the  way  wi'  monks ; 
but  not  wi'  the  other  sort.  What  do  you  make  o't,  Cap.  ?  ' 


228  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

"  I  hardly  know,  Cris.  Possibly  the  Mexican  brigands, 
unlike  those  of  Italy,  don't  care  to  encumber  themselves 
with  a  following  of  the  fair  sex." 

"  On  t'other  hand,"  pursued  the  Texan,  "  it  seems  to 
contrary  their  bein'  o*  the  religious  sort,  puttin'  out  sentries 
as  they  do.  Thar  wor  that  one  we  passed  last  night,  and 
this  mornin'  I  seed  two  go  out  wi'  guns,  one  takin'  each 
side,  and  soon  arter  two  others  comin*  in  as  if  they'd  been 
jest  relieved  from  thar  posts.  Thar's  a  path  as  leads  down 
from  both  sides  o'  the  building." 

"  All  very  strange,  indeed,"  said  Kearney.  "  But  no 
doubt  we  shall  soon  get  explanation  of  it.  By  the  way," 
he  added,  changing  tone  with  the  subject,  "  where  is  the 
dwarf?  What  have  they  done  with  him  ?" 

"  That  I  can't  tell  eyther,  Cap.  I  haven't  seen  stime  o* 
the  critter  since  he  war  tuk  away  from  us  by  that  head 
man  o'  the  sarvents,  and  I  don't  wish  ever  to  set  eyes  on 
the  skunk  again.  Cris  Rock  niver  was  so  tired  o'  a  con- 
nexshun  as  wi'  thet  same.  Wagh !  " 

"  I  suppose  they've  got  him  shut  up  somewhere,  and  in- 
tend  so  keeping  him — no  doubt  for  good  reasons.  Ah  ! 
now  we're  likely  to  hear  something  about  the  disposal  of 
ourselves.  Yonder  comes  the  man  who  can  tell  us !  " 

This,  as  the  soi-disant  Abbot  was  seen  approaching  along 
the  path. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 
THE  ABBOT. 

"AMIGO?  said  their  host,  as  he  rejoined  them,  speaking 
to  Kearney,  who  could  alone  understand  him,  "  permit  me 
to  offer  you  a  cigar — your  comrade  also — with  my  apolo- 
gies for  having  forgotten  that  you  smoked.  Here  are  both 
Havannahs  and  Manillas,  several  brands  of  each.  So 
choose  for  yourself." 

The  mayor-domo,  who  attended  him,  carrying  a  huge 
mahogany  case,  had  already  placed  it  upon  one  of  the 
rustic  benches,  and  laid  open  the  lid. 

"  Thanks,  holy  father,"  responded  Kearney,  with  a  pecu- 
liar smile.  "If  you  have  no  objection,  I'll  stick  to  the 
Im^eradoes.  After  smoking  one  of  them  a  man  need 
have  no  difficulty  as  to  choice." 

At  which  he  took  an  "  Emperor  "  out  of  the  case. 

"  I'm  glad  you  like  them,"  observed  the  generous  donor, 
helping  him  to  a  light.  "  They  ought  to  be  of  good 
quality,  considering  what  they  cost,  and  where  they  come 
from.  But,  Don  Florencio,  don't  let  the  question  of  ex- 
pense hinder  you  smoking  as  many  as  you  please.  My 
outlay  on  them  was  nil — they  were  a  contribution  to  the 
monastery,  though  not  exactly  a  charitable  one." 

He  said  this  with  a  sort  of  inward  laugh,  as  though  some 
strange  history  attached  to  the  Imperadoes. 

"  A  forced  contribution,  then,"  thought  the  Irishman, 
the  remark  having  made  a  strange,  and  by  no  means  plea- 
sant impression  upon  him. 


230  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

The  Texan  had  not  yet  touched  the  cigars,  and  when 
with  a  gesture  the  invitation  was  extended  to  him,  he  hung 
back,  mutterirg  to  Kearney, — 

"  Tell  him,  Cap.,  I'd  purfar  a  pipe  ef  he  ked  accomer- 
date  me  wi'  thet  'ere  article." 

"  What  says  the  Seiior  Cristoforo  ?  "  Asked  the  Abbot. 

"  He'd  prefer  smoking  a  pipe,  if  you  don't  object,  and 
there  be  such  a  thing  convenient" 

"  Oh  !  unpipa.     I  shall  see.     Gregorio  ! " 

He  called  after  the  mayor-domo,  who  was  returning  to- 
ward the  house. 

"Never  mind,  reverend  Father,"  protested  Kearney; 
"  content  yourself  with  a  cigar,  Cris,  and  don't  give  trou- 
ble." 

"  I'm  sorry  I  spoke  o*  it,"  said  the  Texan.  "  I  oughter 
be  only  too  gled  to  git  a  seegar,  an'  it  may  be  he  wudn't 
mind  my  chawin',  stead  o'  smokin'  it !  My  stammuck  feels 
starved  for  a  bit  o'  bacca.  What  wouldn't  I  gie  jest  now 
for  a  plug  o'  Jeemes's  River  !  " 

"  There,  take  one  of  the  cigars  and  eat  it  if  you  like ; 
I'm  sure  he'll  have  no  objection.'1 

Availing  himself  of  the  leave  thus  vicariously  accorded 
the  Texan  picked  out  one  of  the  largest  in  the  collection, 
and  biting  off  about  a  third,  commenced  crunching  it  be- 
tween his  teeth,  as  though  it  was  a  piece  of  sugar-stick. 
This  to  the  no  small  amusement  of  the  Mexican,  who, 
however,  delicately  refrained  from  making  remark. 

Nor  was  Cris  hindered  from  having  a  smoke  as  well  as 
a  "chew," — the  mayor-domo  soon  after  appearing  with  a 
pipe,  a  somewhat  eccentric  affair  he  had  fished  out  from 
the  back  regions  of  the  establishment. 

Meanwhile  their  host  had  himself  lit  one  of  the  "  Em- 
perors," and  was  smoking  away  like  a  chimney.  A  some- 
v/nat  comical  sight  at  any  time,  or  in  any  place,  is  a  monk 


THE   ABBOT.  231 

with  a  cigar  in  his  mouth.  But  that  the  Abbot  of  the 
Serro  Ajusco  was  no  anchorite  they  were  already  aware, 
and  saw  nothing  in  it  to  surprise  them. 

Seating  himself  beside  Kearney,  with  face  turned  to- 
wards the  valley,  he  put  the  question, — 

"  What  do  you  think  of  that  landscape,  Don  Florencio  ?" 

"  Magnificent !  I  can't  recall  having  looked  upon  lov- 
lier,  or  one  with  greater  variety  of  scenic  detail.  It  has  all 
the  elements  of  the  sublime  and  beautiful." 

The  young  Irishman  was  back  in  his  college  classics 
with  his  countryman  Burke. 

"  Make  use  of  this,"  said  the  Abbot,  offering  a  small 
telescope  which  he  drew  out.  "  'Twill  give  you  a  better 
view  of  things." 

Taking  the  glass  and  adjusting  it  to  his  sight,  Kearney 
commenced  making  survey  of  the  valley,  now  bringing  one 
portion  of  it  within  the  field  of  telescopic  vision,  then  an- 
other. 

"  Can  you  see  the  Pedregal  ?  "  asked  the  Abbot  "  It's 
close  in  to  the  mountain's  foot.  You'll  recognise  it  by  its 
sombre  grey  colour." 

"  Certainly  I  see  it,"  answered  the  other,  after  depress- 
ing the  telescope.  "  And  the  thicket  we  came  through  on 
its  further  side — quite  distinctly." 

"  Look  to  the  right  of  that,  then  you'll  observe  a  large 
house,  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  maguey  fields.  Have 
you  caught  it  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  why  do  you  ask  ?  " 

"  Because  that  house  has  an  interest  for  me — a  very 
special  one.  Whom  do  you  suppose  it  belongs  to  ;  or  I 
should  rather  say  did,  and  ought  to  belong  to  ?  " 

"  How  should  I  know,  holy  father  ? "  asked  Kearney, 
thinking  it  somewhat  strange  his  being  so  interrogated. 

"  True/' responded  the  Abbot;  "  how  could  you,  my  son? 


232  EE   LANCES. 

But  I'll  tell  you.  That  maguey al  is  mine  by  right,  though 
by  wrong  'tis  now  the  property  of  our  late  host,  the 
Governor  of  the  Acordada.  His  reward  at  the  last  con- 
fiscation for  basely  betraying  his  country  and  our  cause." 

"  What  cause  ? "  inquired  the  young  Irishman,  laying 
aside  the  glass,  and  showing  more  interest  in  what  he 
heard  than  that  he  had  been  looking  at.  Country  and 
cause!  These  were  not  the  words  likely  to  be  on  the 
lips  of  either  monk  or  highwayman. 

And  that  the  man  who  had  spoken  to  him  was  neither 
one  nor  other  he  had  fuller  proof  in  what  was  now  further 
said. 

"A  cause,  Sefior  Irlandes,  for  which"  I,  Ruperto  Rivas, 
am  ready  to  lay  down  life,  if  the  sacrifice  be  called  for, 
and  so  most — I  may  say  all — of  those  you've  just  met  at 
almnerzo.  You  heard  it  proclaimed  in  the  toast,  "  Patria  y 
Libertad  ! " 

"  Yes.  And  a  grand  noble  sentiment  it  is.  One  I  was 
gratified  to  hear." 

"  And  surprised  as  well.     Is  not  that  so,  amigo  ?" 

"  Well,  to  be  frank  with  you,  holy  father,  I  confess  to 
something  of  the  sort." 

"  Not  strange  you  should,  my  son.  No  doubt  you're 
greatly  perplexed  at  what  you've  seen  and  heard  since  you 
came  up  here,  with  much  before.  But  the  time  has  come 
to  relieve  you ;  so  light  another  cigar  and  listen." 


CHAPTER  XLV. 
THE   FREE   LANCES. 

w  TRY  a  Manilla  this  time,"  said  the  Mexican,  as  Kearney 
was  reaching  out  to  take  a  cigar  from  the  case.  "  Most 
people  believe  that  the  best  can  only  come  from  Cuba.  A 
mistake,  that.  There  are  some  made  in  the  Philippine 
Islands  equal — in  my  opinion, "superior — to  any  Havannahs. 
I  speak  of  a  very  choice  article,  which  don't  ever  get  into 
the  hands  of  the  dealers,  and's  only  known  to  the  initiated. 
Some  of  our  ricos  import  them  by  way  of  Acapulco.  Those 
are  a  fair  sample." 

The  young  Irishman  made  trial  of  the  weed  thus  warmly 
recommended  ;  to  discover  what  contradicted  all  his  pre- 
conceived ideas  in  the  smoking  line.  He  had  always  heard 
it  said  that  the  choicest  cigars  are  Havannahs ;  but,  after 
a  few  whiffs  from  that  Manilla,  which  had  never  seen  a 
cigar  shop,  he  was  willing  to  give  up  the  "  Imperadores." 

His  host,  lighting  one  of  the  same,  thus  proceeded  : 

Puest  caballero ;  to  give  you  the  promised  explanation. 
That  the  monks  of  my  community  are  of  an  order  neither 
very  devout  nor  austere,  you've  already  observed,  no  doubt, 
and  may  have  a  suspicion  they're  not  monks  at  all.  Sol- 
diers, every  man  ;  most  having  seen  service,  and  many  who 
have  done  gallant  deeds.  When  I  speak  of  them  as  soldiers, 
you  will  understand  it  in  its  true  sense,  Sefior.  With  one 
or  two  exceptions,  all  have  held  commissions  in  our  army, 
and  with  a  like  limitation,  I  may  say  all  are  gentlemen. 
The  last  revolution,  which  has  aeain  cursed  our  country  by 

IH 


234  THE    FREE    LANCES, 

restoring  its  chronic  tyrant,  Santa  Anna,  of  course  threw 
them  out ;  the  majority,  as  myself,  being  proscribed,  with 
a  price  set  upon  their  heads." 

"  Then  you're  not  robbers  ? " 

This  was  said  without  thought,  the  words  involuntarily 
escaping  Kearney's  lips.  But  the  counterfeit  abbot,  so  far 
from  feeling  offence  at  them,  broke  out  into  a  laugh,  good- 
humouredly  rejoining, — 

"  Robbers,  amigo  mio  !     Who  told  you  we  were  that  ?  " 

The  Irishman  felt  abashed,  seeing  he  had  committed 
himself. 

"  Don  Ruperto/'  he  exclaimed,  hastening  to  make  the 
best  of  his  blunder,  "  I  owe  you  every  apology.  It  arose 
from  some  talk  I  heard  passing  around  in  the  prison.  Be 
assured,  I  neither  did  nor  could  believe  it." 

"Thank  you,  Seftor ! "  returned  the  Mexican.  "Your 
apologies  are  appreciated.  And,"  he  added,  putting  on  a 
peculiar  smile,  "  in  a  way  superfluous.  I  believe  we  do 
enjoy  that  repute  among  our  enemies  ;  and,  to  confess  the 
truth,  not  without  some  reason." 

Kearney  pricked  up  his  ears,  perplexity,  with  just  a 
shade  of  trouble,  again  appearing  upon  his  face.  He  said 
nothing,  however,  allowing  the  other  to  proceed. 

*  Carramba,  yes  !  "  continued  the  prescript.  "'Tis  quite 
true  we  do  a  little  in  the  plundering  line — now  and  then. 
We  need  doing  it,  Don  Florencio.  But  for  that,  I  mightn't 
have  been  able  to  set  so  good  a  breakfast  before  you  ;  nor 
wines  of  such  quality,  nor  yet  these  delectable  cigars.  If 
you  look  to  the  right  down  there,  you'll  see  the  pueblo  of 
San  Augustin,  and  just  outside  its  suburbs,  a  large  yellow 
house.  From  that  came  our  last  supply  of  drinkable  and 
smokable  materials,  including  those  here,  mahogany  and 
everything.  A  forced  contribution,  as  I've  hinted  at.  But; 
Sefior,  I  should  be  sorry  to  have  you  think  we  levy  black- 


THE    FREE    LANCES.  235 

mail  indiscriminately.  He  from  whom  they  were  taken  is 
one  of  our  bitterest  enemies  ;  equally  an  enemy  of  our 
country.  'Twas  all  in  the  way  of  reprisal ;  fair,  as  you'll 
admit,  when  you  come  to  comprehend  the  circumstances." 

"  I  comprehend  them  now,"  returned  the  listener,  re- 
lieved, "  quite  ;  and  I  trust  you'll  accept  my  apology." 

"  Sans  arriere pense'e"  responded  the  Mexican,  who  could 
speak  French,  if  not  English,  "  I  do  frankly,  freely.  No 
reproach  to  you  for  supposing  us  robbers.  I  believe  many 
others  do,  among  whom  we  make  appearance.  Southward, 
however,  in  the  State  of  Oaxaca,  we  are  better  known  as 
'  the  Free  Lances '  ;  a  title  not  so  appropriate,  either,  since 
our  weapons  are  only  at  the  disposal  of  the  Republic — our 
lives  as  well." 

"  But,"  questioned  Kearney,  "  may  I  ask  why  you  are 
habited  as  I  now  see  you  ?  " 

"For  a  good  reason,  amigo.  It  adds  to  our  secuiity, 
giving  all  sorts  of  opportunities.  Throughout  Mexico,  the 
cowl  of  the  monk  is  the  best  passport  a  man  could  be  pro- 
vided with.  Wearing  it,  we  go  about  among  the  mountain 
villages  without  suspicion,  the  people  believing  that  this 
old  monastery,  so  long  abandoned  as  to  have  been  for- 
gotten, has  again  become  the  dwelling-place  of  a  religious 
order.  Of  course  we  don't  allow  any  of  the  rustics  to 
approach  it.  Luckily,  they  are  not  curious  enough  to  care 
for  that,  against  the  toil  of  climbing  up  here.  If  they 
attempt  it,  we  have  sentinels  to  stay  them.  For  ourselves, 
we  have  learned  to  play  the  part  of  the  holy  friar,  so  that 
there  would  be  difficulty  in  detecting  the  counterfeit.  As 
it  chances,  we  have  with  us  one  or  two  who  once  wore  the 
cowl.  These  perverts  have  taught  us  all  the  tricks  and 
passwords  current  among  the  fraternity.  Hitherto  they 
have  availed  us,  and  I  trust  will,  till  the  time  arrives  for 
our  casting  off  our  cassock,  and  putting  on  the  soldier's 


236  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

coat.  That  day  is  not  distant,  Don  Florencio  ;  nearer  than 
I  expected,  from  what  my  comrades  have  told  me  since  we 
came  up.  The  State  of  Oaxaca  is  disaffected  ;  as,  indeed, 
the  whole  southern  side  of  Acapulco,  and  a  grito  is  antici- 
pated ere  long— possibly  within  a  month.  Alvarez,  who 
controls  in  that  quarter,  will  be  the  man  to  raise  it ;  and 
the  old  Pinto  chief  will  expect  to  be  joined  by  the  f  Free 
Lances.'  Nor  will  he  be  disappointed.  We  are  all  burn- 
ing to  be  at  it.  So,  caballero,  you  see  how  it  is  with  us. 
And  now,"  he  added,  changing  tone  and  looking  his  lis- 
tener earnestly  in  the  face,  "  I  have  a  question  to  put  to 
yourself." 

"  What  ?  "  asked  the  Irishman,  seeing  that  he  hesitated 
putting  it. 

"  Will  you  be  one  of  us  ?  " 

It  was  now  Kearney's  turn  to  hesitate  about  the  answer 
he  ought  to  make.  A  proposition  fraught  with  such  con- 
sequences required  consideration.  To  what  would  he  be 
committing  himself  if  he  consented  ?  And  what  if  he 
should  refuse  ?  Besides,  under  the  circumstances,  was  he 
free  to  refuse  ?  That  of  itself  was  a  question,  a  delicate 
one.  He  and  his  comrade,  Cris  Rock,  owed  their  escape 
to  this  strange  man,  whatever  he  might  be  ;  and  to  sepa- 
rate from  him  now,  even  under  full  permission,  would  savour 
of  ingratitude.  Still  more,  after  listening  to  what  was 
further  said.  For,  noting  his  embarrassment,  and  deem- 
ing it  natural  enough,  the  Mexican  hastened  to  relieve 
him. 

"  If  my  proposal  be  not  to  your  liking,  Seilor  Irlandes, 
say  so  ;  and  without  fear  of  offence.  All  the  same,  you 
may  rest  assured  of  our  protection  while  you  remain  with 
us  ;  and  I  shall  do  what  I  can  to  get  you  safe  out  of  the 
country.  At  all  events,  I  won't  send  you  back  to  the 
Acprdada  gaol,  and  the  tender  care  of  its  governor,  §9 


THE   FREE    LANCES.  237 

you  can  speak  frankly,  without  reserve.  Are  you  willing 
to  be  one  of  us  ?  " 

'  I  am  !"  was  the  answer,  gi/en  without  further  hesita- 
ti-  *n. 

Why  should  he  have  either  hesitated  or  said  nay  ?  In 
the  heart  of  a  hostile  country,  an  escaped  prisoner,  his 
life,  as  he  felt  sure,  forfeited  should  he  be  retaken.  Joining 
Rivas  and  his  Free  Lances  might  be  his  sole  chance  of 
saving  it.  Even  had  they  been  banditti,  he  could  not  have 
done  better  then. 

"  Yes,  Don  Ruperto,"  he  added  ;  "  if  you  deem  me  worthy 
of  belonging  to  your  brotherhood,  be  it  so.  I  accept  your 
invitation." 

"  And  your  comrade,  Don  Cristoforo.  Will  he  be  of 
the  same  mind,  think  you  ?  " 

"  Sure  to  be.  I  take  it  I  can  answer  for  him.  But  you 
shall  hear  for  yourself.  Rock  !  " 

He  called  to  the  Texan,  who,  not  understanding  their 
dialogue,  had  sauntered  apart,  chewing  away  at  the 
Imperador. 

"Wai,  Cap.;  what's  up  now?"  he  asked  on  rejoining 
them. 

"  They're  no  robbers,  Cris,"  said  Kearney,  speaking 
freely  in  their  own  tongue. 

"  Gled  to  hear  it.  I  didn't  think  they  war — noways.  Nor 
monks  neyther,  I  guess  ?  " 

"  Nor  monks." 

"What  then,  Cap.?" 

"  The  same  as  yourself.  Patriots  who  have  been  fighting 
for  their  country,  and  got  defeated.  That's  why  they  are 
here — in  hiding." 

"  Yts,  Cap. ;  I  see  it  all,  clar  as  coon's  track  on  a  mud 
bar.  Enemies  o'  ole  Santy,  who've  got  beat  it  thar  la,st 


2^8  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

"  Just  so.  But  they  expect  another  rising  soon,  and  wish 
us  to  join  them.  I've  agreed,  and  said  so.  What  say 
you  ?  " 

"  I  ordy,  Cap. ;  what  a  questun  to  be  axed,  an'  by  yur- 
selfi  Sure  this  chile  air  boun'  to  stick  to  ye,  whatsomever 
ye  do.  Ef  they'd  been  brigants,  I  shed  'a  put  my  conscience 
in  mv  Docket,  and  goe'd  in  wi'  'em  all  the  same ;  s'long 
you're  agreed.  Nor  I  wudn't  'a  minded  turning  monk  for 
a  spell  But  men  who  intend  foughtin'  for  freedom  ? 
HaleluyaK  !  Cris  Rock  air  all  thar  !  Ye  may  tell  him  so." 

"  He  consents,"  said  Kearney,  reporting  to  the  Mexican  ; 
'  and  willingly  as  myself.  Indeed,  Don  Ruperto,  we  ought 
both  to  regard  it  as  a  grace — an  honour — to  be  so  associ- 
ated, and  we  ^hall  do  the  best  we  can  to  show  ourselves 
vorthy  of  it." 

"Mil  graclas,  Bettor!  The  grace  and  honour  are  all 
given  to  us.  Two  such  valientes,  as  I  know  you  to  be,  will 
le  no  slight  acquisition  to  our  strength.  And  now,  may  I 
&  k  you  to  assume  the  garb  which,  as  you  see,  is  our  present 
UKJform  ?  That  by  way  of  precaution  for  the  time.  You'll 
finu  suitable  rsunent  inside.  I've  given  Gregorio  orders 
to  g^t  it  ready.  So  you  see,  Camarados,  I've  been  count- 
ing upon  you." 

"  Gdiosofat ! "  exclaimed  the  Texan,  when  told  of  the 
dress  ko  was  expected  to  put  on.  "  What  wi'  New 
Orleens  Atore  close,  an'  prison  duds,  an*  the  like,  this  chile 
hev  had  k.  goodish  wheen  o'  changes  since  he  stripped  off 
his  ole  hu.itin'  shirt.  An'  now  a-goin'  in  for  a  monk  I 
Wai ;  tho'  1  mayen't  be  the  most  sanctified,  I  reck'n  I'll 
be  the  tallest  In  thar  mon'stery." 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 
ST.  AUGUSTINE  OF  THE  CAVES. 

ONE  of  the  pleasantest  villages  in  the  valley  of  Mexico 
is  San  Augustin  de  las  Cuevas — Tlatpam  by  Aztec  de- 
signation— both  names  due  to  some  remarkable  caverns  in 
the  immediate  neighbourhood.  It;  is  some  ten  or  twelve 
mile?  from  the  capital,  on  the  southern  or  Acapulco  road, 
just  where  this,  forsaking  the  valley  level,  begins  to  ascend, 
the  Sierra,  passing  over  which  by  Cruz  del  Marques,  it 
continues  on  through  the  tierras  calentes  of  Cuernavaca 
and  Guerrero  to  the  famed  port  of  the  Pacific. 

San  Augustin  is  a  pueblo,  endowed  with  certain  muni- 
cipal privileges.  It  boasts  of  an  alcalde-mayor  with  other 
corporate  officers,  and  a  staff  of  alguezils,  or  police- 
men. 

The  heads  of  departments  are  mostly  men  of  pure 
Spanish  race — "  gente  de  razon,"  as  they  proudly  proclaim 
themselves — though  many  are  in  reality  of  mixed  blood, 
Mestizos.  Of  this  are  the  better  class  of  shopkeepers, 
few  in  number,  the  gente  de  razon  at  best  forming  a 
scarce  discernible  element  in  the  population,  which  is 
mainly  made  up  of  the  brown  aborigines. 

At  a  certain  season  of  the  year,  however,  paler  com- 
plexions show  in  the  ascendant.  This  during  carnival 
time — "  Las  Pascuas"  Then  the  streets  of  San  Augustin 
are  crowded  with  gay  promenaders  ;  while  carriages  and 
men  on  horseback  may  be  seen  in  continuous  stream  pass- 
ing to  and  fro  between  it  and  the  capital.  In  Las  Pascuas 


24°  THE   FREE    LANCES. 

week,  one  day  with  another,  half  Mexico  is  there  engaged 
in  a  gambling  orgie,  as  Londoners  at  Epsom  during  the 
Derby.  More  like  Homburg  and  Monaco,  though ;  since 
the  betting  at  Tlalpam  is  not  upon  the  swiftness  of  horses, 
but  done  with  dice  and  cards.  The  national  game,  "monte," 
there  finds  fullest  illustration,  grand  marquees  being 
erected  for  its  play — real  temples  erected  to  the  goddess 
Fortuna.  Inside  these  maybe  seen  crowds  of  the  strangest 
composition,  in  every  sense  heterogeneous;  military  officers, 
generals  and  colonels,  down  to  the  lowest  grade,  even  ser- 
geants and  corporals,  sitting  at  the  same  table  and  staking 
on  the  same  cards  ;  members  of  Congress,  Senators,  Ca- 
binet Ministers,  and,  upon  occasions,  the  Chief  of  the  State, 
jostling  the  ragged  lepero,  and  not  unfrequently  standing 
elbow  to  elbow  with  the  footpad  and  salteador ! — Some- 
thing stranger  still,  ladies  compose  part  of  this  miscella- 
neous assemblage  ;  dames  of  high  birth  and  proud  bearing^ 
but  in  this  carnival  of  cupidity  not  disdaining  to  "  punt  " 
on  the  sota  or  cavallo,  while  brushing  skirts  with  bare- 
armed,  bare-footed  rustic  damsels,  and  poblanas,  more 
elaborately  robed,  but  with  scantier  reputation. 

After  all,  it  is  only  Baden  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Atlantic ;  and  it  may  be  said  in  favour  of  San  Augustin, 
the  fury  lasts  for  only  a  few  days,  instead  of  a  whole 
season.  Then  the  monte  banks  disappear,  with  their 
dealers  and  croupiers  ;  the  great  tents  are  taken  down  ; 
the  gamesters,  gentle  and  simple,  scatter  off,  most  going 
back  to  the  city;  and  the  little  pueblo  Tlalparn,  resuming 
its  wonted  tranquillity,  is  scarce  thought  of  till  Carnival 
comes  again. 

In  its  normal  condition,  though  some  might  deem  it 
rather  dull,  it  is  nevertheless  one  of  the  pleasantest  resi- 
dential villages  in  the  Valley.  Picturesquely  situated  at 
the  foot  of  the  southern  Sierras,  which  form  a  bold  moun- 


ST.    AUGUSTINE   OF   THE   CAVES.  24] 

tain  background,  it  has  on  the  other  side  water  scenery  it 
the  curious  Laguna  de  Xochimilco,  while  the  grin 
Pedregal  also  approaches  it,  giving  variety  to  its  sur 
foundings. 

Besides  its  fixed  population  there  is  one  that  may  b< 
termed  floating  or  intermittent ;  people  who  come  and  gc 
These  are  certain  "ricos,"  who  chiefly  affect  its  suburbs 
where  they  have  handsome  houses — casas  de  caiupo.  No 
in  hundreds,  as  at  San  Anjel  and  Tacubaya,  Tlalpan 
being  at  a  greater  and  more  inconvenient  distance  fron 
the  capital.  Still  there  are  several  around  it  of  first-class 
belonging  to  familias  principales,  though  occupied  by  then 
only  at  intervals,  and  for  a  few  days  or  weeks  at  a  time. 

One  of  these,  owned  by  Don  Ignacio  Valverde,  was  ; 
favourite  place  of  residence  with  him ;  a  tranquil  retreat  o 
which  he  was  accustomed  to  avail  himself  whenever  h< 
could  get  away  from  his  ministerial  duties.  Just  such  ai 
interregnum  had  arisen  some  time  after  the  stirring  in 
cidents  we  have  recorded,  and  he  went  to  stay  at  his  Sai 
Augustin  house  with  his  daughter,  the  Condesa  Almonti 
going  with  them  as  their  guest.  Since  their  last  appear 
ance  before  the  reader,  all  three  had  passed  through  scene 
of  trial.  An  investigation  had  been  gone  into  regarding 
the  Call£  de  Plateros  affair — private,  however,  before  Sant; 
Anna  himself,  the  world  not  being  made  the  wiser  for  it 
Its  results  were  all  in  their  favour,  thanks  to  the  stern 
stubborn  fidelity  of  Jose,  who  lied  like  a  very  varlet.  Sue! 
a  circumstantial  story  told  he,  no  one  could  suspect  hirr 
of  complicity  in  the  escape  of  the  forzados ;  far  less  tha 
his  mistress,  or  the  Condesa  Almonte",  had  to  do  with  it. 

Don  Ignacio,  too,  had  done  his  share  to  hinder  dis- 
covery of  the  truth.  For,  in  the  end,  it  was  found  necessar) 
to  take  him  into  the  secret,  the  missing  cloak  and  pistols 
with  several  mysterious  incidents,  calling  for  explanation 

R 


242  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

But  in  making  a  clean  breast  of  it,  his  daughter  had  felt 
no  fear  of  being  betrayed  by  him.  He  was  not  the  father 
to  deal  harshly  with  his  child  ;  besides,  it  was  something 
more — a  real  danger.  In  addition,  she  knew  how  he  was 
affected  towards  the  man  she  had  aided  to  escape — that  he 
held  Don  Florencio  in  highest  esteem  ;  looked  upon  him 
as  a  dear  friend,  and  in  a  certain  tacit  way  had  long  ago 
signified  approval  of  him  for  a  son-in-law.  All  these 
thoughts  passed  through  Luisa  Valverde's  mind  [while 
approaching  her  father,  and  steeling  herself  to  make  con- 
fession of  that  secret  she  might  otherwise  have  kept  from 
him. 

The  result  was  not  disappointing.  Don  Ignacio  con- 
sented to  the  deception,  and  they  were  saved.  Whatever 
the  suspicions  of  Santa  Anna  and  his  adjutant,  both  were 
baffled  about  that  affair,  at  least  for  the  time. 

Alike  had  they  been  frustrated  in  their  pursuit  of  the 
escapados.  Despite  the  most  zealous  search  through  the 
Pedregal  and  elsewhere,  these  could  not  be  found,  nor 
even  a  trace  of  them.  Still,  they  were  not  given  up. 
Every  town  and  village  in  the  valley,  in  the  mountains 
around,  and  the  country  outside  were  visited  by  soldiers  or 
spies — every  spot  likely  to  harbour  the  fugitives.  Pickets 
were  placed  everywhere  and  patrols  despatched,  riding  the 
roads  by  night  as  by  day,  all  proving  abortive. 

After  a  time,  however,  this  vigorous  action  became 
relaxed.  Not  that  they  who  had  dictated  were  less  de- 
sirous of  continuing  it ;  but  because  a  matter  of  more 
importance  than  mere  personal  spite  or  vengeance  wa's 
soon  likely  to  declare  itself,  and  threaten  their  own  safety. 
Talk  was  beginning  to  be  heard,  though  only  in  whispers, 
and  at  a  far  distance  from  the  capital,  of  a  new  pronuncia- 
mento  in  preparation.  And  in  making  counter-prepara- 
tions, the  Dictator  had  now  enough  to  occupy  all  his 


ST.    AUGUSTINE    OF    THE    CAVES.  243 

energies  ;   not  knowing  the  day  or  the  hour  he  might  again 
hear  the  cry  he  so  dreaded,  "  Patria  y  Libertad." 

Meanwhile  the  people  had  ceased  to  speak  of  the  stirring 
episode  which  had  occurred  in  the  Calle  de  Plateros;  thought 
strange  only  from  the  odd  circumstances  attendant,  and 
the  fact  of  two  of  the  fugitives  being  Tejanos.  The  city  of 
Mexico  has  its  daily  newspapers,  ?nd  on  the  morning  after 
a  full  account  of  it  appeared  in  El  Diario  and  El  Monitor. 
For  all  it  was  but  the  topic  of  a  tveek ;  in  ten  days  no 
more  heard  of  it ;  in  a  month  qivte  forgotten,  save  by 
those  whom  it  specially  concerned  So  varied  are  the 
events,  so  frequent  the  changes,  so  si  range  the  "Cosas  da 
Mexico ! " 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 
OVER    THE    CLIFF. 

For  some  time  after  their  arrival  ut  the  ol:J  monastery, 
neither  Kearney  nor  Cris  Rock  saw  aught  of  their  late 
"  fourth  fellow  "  prisoner — the  hunchback.  They  cared 
not  to  inquire  after  him  ;  the  Texan  repeating  himself  by 
saying, — "This  chile  don't  want  ever  to  sit  eyes  on  his 
ugly  pictur  agin."  They  supposed  that  he  was  still  there, 
however,  somewhere  about  the  building. 

And  so  was  he,  with  a  chain  attached  to  his  leg,  the 
same  he  had  shared  with  Rock,  its  severed  end  now  pad* 
locked  to  a  ring  bolt ;  and  the  apartment  he  occupied  had 
as  much  of  the  prison  aspect  as  any  cell  in  the  Acordada, 
No  doubt,  in  days  gone  by,  many  a  refractory  brother  had 
pined  and  done  penance  therein  for  breach  of  monastic 
discipline. 

Why  the  misshapen  creature  was  so  kept  needs  little 
explanation ;  for  the  same  reason  as  prompted  to  bring- 
ing him  thither.  Helpless  as  he  might  appear,  he  was  not 
harmless ;  and  Don  Ruperto  knew  that  to  restore  him  to 
liberty  would  be  to  risk  losing  his  own,  with  something 
more.  Though  safely  bestowed,  however,  no  severity  was 
shown  him.  He  had  his  meals  regularly,  and  a  bed  to 
sleep  on,  if  but  a  pallet,  quite  as  good  as  he  had  been 
accustomed  to.  Moreover,  after  some  time  had  elapsed,  he 
was  relieved  from  this  close  confinement  during  the  hours 
of  the  day.  A  clever  actor,  and  having  a  tongue  that 
could  "wheedle  with  the  devil,"  he  had  wheedled  with  the 

MA 


OVER    THE    CLIFF.  245 

mayor-domo  to  granting  him  certain  indulgences  ;  among 
them  being  allowed  to  spend  part  of  his  time  in  the 
kitchen  and  scullery.  Not  in  idleness,  however,  but  occu- 
pied with  work  for  which  he  had  proved  himself  well 
qualified.  It  was  found  that  he  had  once  been  "  boots  " 
in  a  posadO)  which  fitted  him  for  usefulness  in  many 
ways. 

In  the  cocina  of  the  old  convent  his  temper  was  sorely 
tried,  the  other  "  mozos  "  making  cruel  sport  of  him.  But 
he  bore  it  with  a  meekness  very  different  to  what  he  had 
shown  while  in  the  Acordada. 

Thus  acquitting  himself,  Gregorio,  who  had  him  in 
special  charge,  began  to  regard  him  as  a  useful  if  not 
ornamental  addition  to  his  domestic  staff  of  the  establish- 
ment. Notwithstanding,  the  precaution  was  still  con- 
tinued of  locking  him  at  night  and  re-attaching  the  chain 
to  his  ankle.  This  last  was  more  disagreeable  than  aught 
else  he  had  to  endure.  He  could  bear  the  jibes  of  his 
fellow-scullions,  but  that  fetter  sorely  vexed  him  ;  as  night 
after  night  he  was  accustomed  to  say  to  the  mayor-domo 
as  he  was  turning  the  key  in  its  clasp. 

"  It's  so  uncomfortable,  Seiior  Don  Gregorio,"  was  his 
constantly  recurring  formula.  "  Keeps  me  from  sleeping, 
and's  very  troublesome  when  I  want  to  turn  over,  as  I 
often  do  on  account  of  the  pains  in  my  poor  humped 
shoulders.  Now,  why  need  you  put  it  on  ?  Surely  you're 
not  afraid  of  me  trying  to  get  away  ?  Ha,  ha !  that 
would  be  turning  one's  back  upon  best  friends.  Cascaras  ! 
I  fare  too  well  here  to  think  of  changing  quarters.  Above 
all,  going  into  the  Acordada;  where  I'd  have  to  go  sure, 
if  I  were  to  show  my  face  in  the  city  again.  Oh  no, 
Seiior!  you  don't  catch  me  leaving  this  snug  crib,  so 
long's  you  allow  me  to  board  and  bed  in  it.  Only  I'd 
like  you  to  let  me  off  from  that  nasty  thing.  It's  cold 


246  THE    FREE   LANCES. 

too  ;  interferes  with  my  comfort  generally.  Do,  good  Don 
Gregorio  !  For  this  one  night  try  me  without  it.  And  if 
you're  not  satisfied  with  the  result,  then  put  it  on  ever 
after,  and  I  won't  complain,  I  promise  you." 

In  somewhat  similar  forms  he  had  made  appeals  for 
many  nights  in  succession,  but  without  melting  the  heart 
of  the  "  Good  Don  Gregorio." 

At  length,  however,  it  proved  effectual.  Among  various 
other  avocations  he  had  been  a  Zapartero>  of  the  class 
cobbler,  and  on  a  certain  day  did  service  to  the  mayor- 
domo  by  mending  his  shoes.  For  which  he  received 
payment  in  the  permission  to  pass  that  night  without 
being  discommoded  by  the  chain. 

"  It's  so  very  kind  of  you,  Don  Gregorio  ! "  he  said, 
when  made  aware  of  the  grace  to  be  given  to  him.  "  I 
ought  to  sleep  sound  this  night,  anyhow.  But  whether  I 
do  or  not,  I  shall  pray  for  you  before  going  to  bed  all  the 
same.  Buenas  noches  i  " 

It  was  twilight  outside,  but  almost  total  darkness  with- 
in the  cell,  as  the  mayor-domo  turned  to  go  out  of  it. 
Otherwise  he  might  have  seen  on  the  dwarfs  features  an 
expression  calculated  to  make  him  repent  his  act  of  kind- 
ness, and  instantly  undo  it.  Could  he  have  divined  the 
thoughts  at  that  moment  passing  through  Zorillo's  mind, 
the  clasp  would  have  quickly  closed  around  the  latter's 
leg,  despite  all  gratitude  due  to  him  for  the  patching  of  the 
shoes. 

"  If  I  can  get  out,"  he  commenced  in  mental  soliloquy, 
as  the  foot-fall  of  the  mayor-domo  died  away  in  the  distant 
corridor,  "  out  and  away  from  them,  my  fortune's  made  ;  all 
sorts  of  good  things  in  store  for  me.  From  this  time  forth 
I  needn't  fear  to  present  myself  at  the  door  of  the  Acordada  ; 
walk  right  into  it.  No  danger  of  Don  Pedro  keeping  me 
there  now.  Instead,  I  should  be  sent  out  again  with  a  free 


OVER    THE    CLIFF.  247 

pardon  and  a  full  purse.  Chingara,  talk  of  a  cat  in  the 
cupboard,  here  are  a  score  of  them — half  a  hundred  !  And 
when  I  let  them  out — aha  ! " 

He  paused  ;  then  rising  to  his  feet,  moved  across  to  the 
door,  and  laid  his  ear  against  it  to  listen.  He  heard 
sounds,  but  they  were  sounds  of  merriment — the  counter- 
feit monks  at  their  evening  meal — and  did  not  concern 
him. 

"What  a  bit  of  luck  it  may  turn  out,  after  all,  my 
getting  coupled  to  that  great  brute  and  brought  here  ! 
That  is,  if  all  goes  well,  and  I  can  give  them  the  slip. 
First,  to  make  sure  about  the  possibility  of  getting  out 
of  this  hole.  Carrai  !  I  may  be  counting  my  chicken*-, 
in  the  eggs." 

Leaving  the  door,  he  glided  across  to  the  window,  and 
set  himself  square  against  it,  as  if  to  measure  its  breadth 
by  that  of  his  own  body.  It  was  but  a  slit,  unglazed, 
a  single  iron  bar,  placed  vertically,  dividing  the  aperture 
into  two.  Without  removing  this  he  could  not  possibly 
pass  through.  But  he  had  the  means  to  remove  it ;  that 
file,  already  known  to  the  reader,  which  he  had  contrived 
to  get  possession  of,  and  for  days  kept  secret  in  his  cell. 
First,  however,  he  must  see  whether  it  was  worth  while 
using  it ;  for  during  all  the  time  of  his  being  there  he 
had  never  been  allowed  an  opportunity  to  approach  the 
window  and  look  out. 

Leaning  forward  into  the  recess,  he  thrust  his  head 
between  the  bar  and  jamb,  so  far  out  as  to  give  him  a  view 
of  the  ground  below.  This  was  solid  rock,  the  crest  of  a 
steep  slope,  from  which  the  wall  rose  as  above  a  buttress. 
But  there  was  a  ledge,  some  ten  or  twelve  feet  under  the 
sill,  narrow,  but  wide  enough  to  afford  footing,  which 
led  off  to  more  level  ground.  How  was  he  to  reach  it  ? 

He  knew,  or  he  would  not  have  acted  as  he  now  did. 


248  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

For  without  spending  another  second  in  the  survey,  he 
drew  back  from  the  window,  plunged  his  hand  under  his 
bed  mat,  drew  forth  the  file,  and  commenced  rasping  away 
at  the  bar.  Not  noisily  or  in  any  excited  haste.  Even  if 
the  obstacle  were  removed,  the  time  had  not  come  for  his 
attempt  to  pass  out.  He  would  wait  for  an  hour  after 
midnight,  when  all  had  gone  to  their  beds. 

Eaten  with  rust,  the  iron  was  easily  sawed  through,  a 
clean  cut  being  made  near  its  lower  end.  Then,  laying 
aside  the  file,  and  grasping  the  bar,  he  wrenched  it  out 
of  the  solderings.  If  diminutive  in  body,  his  arms  were 
sinewy  and  strong  as  those  of  a  coalheaver. 

This  task  accomplished,  he  turned  to  his  pallet  and 
taking  up  the  old  blanket  allowed  him  for  a  covering, 
began  to  tear  it  into  strips.  He  meant  to  make  a  rope  of 
it  to  lower  himself  down  outside.  But  finding  it  quite 
rotten,  and  doubting  whether  it  would  bear  his  weight,  he 
desisted  and  sat  for  a  time  considering.  Not  long  till  he 
bethought  himself  of  something  more  suitable  for  his  pur 
pose — the  chain. 

"  Bah ! "  he  exclaimed,  tossing  aside  the  rags  he  had 
commenced  splicing  together,  "  why  didn't  I  think  of  that  ? 
Well,  it's  not  too  late  yet.  Good  three  yards — long 
enough.  And  the  stupid  has  left  the  key  behind,  which 
fits  both  ends.  So,  Mr.  Chain,  considering  the  world  of 
worry  and  trouble  you've  been  to  me,  it's  time,  and  only 
fair,  you  should  do  me  a  good  turn  by  way  of  recompense. 
After  you'ye  done  it,  I'll  forgive  you." 

While  muttering  this  quaint  apostrophe,  he  commenced 
groping  about  over  the  floor — not  for  the  chain,  but  the 
key,  which  he  knew  Gregorio  had  left,  after  releasing  his 
leg  from  the  clasp.  The  mayor-domo  had  either  forgotten, 
or  did  not  think  it  was  worth  while  taking  it  away. 

Having  found  it,  he  felt  his  way  to  the  ring  bolt,  and  un- 


OVER    THE    CLIFF.  249 

locking  the  clasp  at  that  end,  returned  to  the  window, 
taking  the  chain  with  him.  Having  made  one  end  fast 
around  the  stump  of  the  bar,  he  lowered  the  other  down 
outside,  cautiously,  without  a  tinkle  of  its  links.  And 
now  again  looking  out  and  below,  he  was  delighted  to  see 
that  it  reached  within  a  foot  or  two  of  the  ledge.  All  this 
done,  he  once  more  sat  down  on  the  side  of  the  bed,  to 
await  the  hour  of  midnight. 

But  he  was  not  long  quiescent,  when  a  thought  occurring 
causrd  him  to  resume  action. 

"Why  not  try  it  now?"  he  mentally  interrogated. 
"  They're  all  in  the  Refectory,  having  a  fine  time  of  it, 
drinking  their  famous  wines.  Some  grand  occasion,  I 
heard  one  of  the  mozos  say.  There  mightn't  be  a  better 
chance  for  me  than  this  very  minute — maybe  not  so  good. 
Carramba  !  I'll  risk  it  now." 

Quickly  at  the  words  he  glided  back  to  the  window, 
climbed  up  into  it,  and  squeezing  out  through  the  aperture, 
let  himself  down  on  the  chain,  link  by  link,  as  a  monkey 
making  descent  of  a  lliana  in  the  forests  of  the  tierra 
calicnte. 

Soon  as  he  found  himself  safe  landed  he  let  go  the  chain, 
and  after  a  minute  or  so  spent  in  silent  reconnaissance  of 
the  ledge,  commenced  moving  off  along  it. 

Right  he  was  in  choosing  that  early  hour,  for  the  way  he 
must  needs  take  led  out  into  the  open  ground,  in  front  of 
the  building,  where  at  a  later  one  a  watch  would  have 
been  stationed.  There  was  none  there  now,  and  without 
stop  or  challenge  he  passed  on  and  down. 

Though  they  had  never  allowed  him  to  go  outside  the 
building,  he  perfectly  remembered  the  path  by  which  he 
and  the  others  had  reached  it,  on  that  memorable  night 
after  their  escape  from  the  chain-gang.  He  recalled  the 
two  steep  slopes,  one  above  the  other,  with  a  narrow  shelf 


25O  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

between,  on  which  they  encountered  the  sentinel,  who  had 
hailed,  "  Quien  viva  ?  " 

Sure  to  be  one  there  now,  and  to  such  hail  what  answer 
could  he  make  ? 

On  this  he  reflected  while  descending  the  upper  slope. 
The  darkness  due  to  the  overshadowing  trees  made  it 
necessary  for  him  to  go  slowly,  so  giving  him  time.  But 
it  did  not  hinder  his  keeping  to  the  path.  With  his  long 
arms  like  the  tentacles  of  an  octopus  he  was  able  to  direct 
his  course,  now  and  then  using  them  to  grasp  overhanging 
branches,  or  the  parasites  dependent  therefrom.  Withal 
he  went  cautiously,  and  so  silently,  that  the  sentinel — for 
sure  enough  one  was  there — heard  no  noise  to  warn 
him  of  an  enemy  behind.  In  his  monkish  garb,  he  was 
standing  on  the  outer  edge  of  the  shelf  rock,  his  face 
turned  to  the  valley,  which  was  just  beginning  to  show 
silvery  white  under  the  rays  of  a  rising  moon.  Per- 
haps, like  Don  Ruperto,  he  was  gazing  on  some  spot,  a 
house  endeared  to  him  as  the  home  of  his  childhood  ;  but 
from  which,  as  the  leader  of  the  Free  Lances,  he  had  been 
bereft  by  the  last  confiscation.  Possibly  he  was  indulging 
in  the  hope  of  its  being  soon  restored  to  him,  but  least  of 
all  dreaming  of  danger  behind. 

It  was  there,  notwithstanding — in  fiendish  shape  and  close 
proximity.  A  creature  squatted  like  a  toad,  human  withal, 
saying  to  himself, — 

"  What  wouldn't  I  give  for  a  knife  with  a  blade  six  inches 
long ! " 

Then,  with  a  sudden  change  of  thought,  seeing  the  chance 
to  do  without  the  knife,  making  a  dash  forward,  with  the 
ape-like  arms  extended,  and  pushing  the  sentinel  over  ! 

The  cry  that  came  from  the  latter,  on  feeling  the  impulse 
from  behind,  was  stifled  as  he  went  whirling  to  the  bottom 
of  the  cliff. 


CHAPTER    XLVIIL 
ON   DOWN  THE  MOUNTAIN. 

"  DEAD  ! "  muttered  the  inhuman  wretch,  as  he  stood 
upon  the  spot  late  occupied  by  his  victim,  looking  down 
over  the  cliff.  "  Dead  he  must  be  ;  unless  a  man  can  fall 
two  hundred  feet  and  still  live  ;  which  isn't  likely.  That 
clears  the  way,  I  take  it ;  and  unless  I  have  the  ill  luck 
to  meet  some  one  coming  up — a  straggler — it'll  be  all  right. 
As  sound  ascends,  I  ought  to  hear  them  before  they  could 
see  me.  I  shall  keep  my  ears  open." 

Saying  which  he  commenced  the  descent  of  the  second 
slope,  proceeding  in  the  same  cautious  way  as  before. 

The  path  was  but  a  ledge,  which,  after  running  fifty 
yards  in  a  direct  line,  made  an  abrupt  double  back  in  the 
opposite  direction,  all  the  while  obliquing  downwards. 
Another  similar  zig-zag,  with  a  like  length  of  declivity 
traversed,  and  he  found  himself  at  the  cliff's  base,  among 
shadowy,  thick  standing  trees.  He  remembered  the  place; 
and  that  before  reaching  it  on  their  way  up  they  had 
followed  the  trend  of  the  cliff  for  more  than  a  quarter  of  a 
mile.  So,  taking  this  for  his  guide,  he  kept  on  along  the 
back  track. 

Not  far,  before  seeing  that  which  brought  him  to  a  stop. 
If  he  had  entertained  any  doubt  about  the  sentinel  being 
dead,  it  would  have  been  resolved  now.  There  lay  the 
man's  body  among  the  loose  rocks,  not  only  lifeless,  but 
shapeless.  A  break  in  the  continuity  of  the  timber  let  the 
moonlight  through,  giving  the  murderer  a  full  view  of  him 
he  had  murdered, 


252  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

The  sentinel  had  fallen  upon  his  back,  and  lay  with  his 
face  upward,  his  crushed  body  doubled  over  a  boulder ; 
the  blood  was  welling  from  his  mouth  and  nostrils,  and 
the  open  eyes  glared  ghastly  in  the  white,  weird  light.  It 
was  a  sight  to  inspire  fear  in  the  mind  of  an  ordinary 
individual,  even  in  that  of  a  murderer.  But  it  had  no  effect 
on  this  strange  htsus  of  humanity,  whose  courage  was 
equal  to  his  cruelty.  Instead  of  giving  the  body  a  wide 
berth,  and  scared-like  stealing  past,  he  walked  boldly  up 
to  it,  saying  in  apostrophe, — 

"  So  you're  there  !  Well,  you  need  not  blame  me,  but 
your  luck.  If  I  hadn't  pushed  you  over,  you'd  have  shot 
me  like  a  dog,  or  brained  me  with  the  butt  of  your  gun 
Aha !  I  was  too  much  for  you,  Mr.  Monk  or  soldier, 
whichever  you  were,  for  you're  neither  now. 

"Just  possible,"  he  continued,  changing  the  form  of  his 
monologue,  "he  may  have  a  purse  ;  the  which  I'm  sure  to 
stand  in  need  of  before  this  time  to-morrow.  If  without 
money,  his  weapons  may  be  of  use  to  me." 

With  a  nimble  ness  which  bespoke  him  no  novice  at 
trying  pockets,  he  soon  touched  the  bottom  of  all  those  on 
the  body,  to  find  them  empty, 

''Bah  !"  he  ejaculated,  drawing  back  with  a  disappointed 
air,  "  I  might  have  known  there  was  nothing  in  them. 
Whatever  cash  they've  had  up  there  has  been  spent  long 
ago,  and  their  wine  will  soon  be  out  too.  His  gun  I  don't 
care  for  ;  besides,  I  see  it's  broken  ; — yes,  the  stock  snapped 
clean  off.  But  this  stiletto,  it's  worth  taking  with  me.  Even 
if  I  shouldn't  need  it  as  a  weapon,  it  looks  like  a  thing  Mr. 
Pawnbroker  would  appreciate." 

Snatching  the  dagger — a  silver-hilted  one — from  the 
corpse  of  its  ill-starred  owner,  he  secreted  it  inside  his 
tattered  rag  of  a  coat,  and  without  delay  proceeded  on. 

Soon  after  he  came  to  a  point  where  the  path,  forsaking 


ON   DOWN    THE    MOUNTAIN.  253 

the  cliff,  turned  to  the  left,  down  the  slope  of  the  mountain. 
He  knew  that  would  take  him  into  the  Pedrcgal,  where 
he  did  not  desire  to  go.  Besides  his  doubts  of  being  able 
to  find  the  way  through  the  lava  field,  there  was  no 
particular  need  for  his  attempting  so  difficult  a  track.  All 
he  wanted  was  to  get  back  to  the  city  by  the  most  direct 
route,  and  as  soon  as  possible  into  the  presence  of  a  man 
of  whom  during  late  days  he  had  been  thinking  much. 
For  from  this  man  he  expected  much,  in  return  for  a  tale 
he  could  tell  him.  It  must  be  told  direct,  and  for  this 
reason  all  caution  was  required.  He  might  fall  into  hands 
that  would  not  only  hinder  him  from  relating  it  in  the 
right  quarter,  but  prevent  his  telling  it  at  all. 

Just  where  the  path  diverged  to  the  left,  going  down  to 
the  Pedregal,  a  mass  of  rocks  rose  bare  above  the  tops  of 
the  trees.  Clambering  to  its  summit  he  obtained  a  view 
of  what  lay  below ;  the  whole  valley  bathed  in  bright 
moonlight,  green  meadows,  fields  of  maize,  and  maguey, 
great  sheets  of  water  with  haze  hanging  over  them,  white 
and  gauzy  as  a  bridal  veil.  The  city  itself  was  distin- 
guishable at  a  long  distance,  and  in  places  nearer  specklings 
of  white  telling  of  some  pueblita,  or  single  spots  where 
stood  a  rancfio  or  hacienda^  Closer  still,  almost  under  his 
feet,  a  clump  of  those  mottlings  was  more  conspicuous  ; 
which  he  recognised  as  the  pueblo  of  San  Augustin.  A 
narrow  ribbon-like  strip  of  greyish  white  passing  through 
it,  and  on  to  the  city,  he  knew  to  be  the  Great  Southern 
or  Acapulco  Road,  which  enters  the  capital  by  the  garita 
of  San  Antonio  de  Abad.  This  route  he  decided  on 
taking. 

Having  made  note  of  the  necessary  bearings,  he  slipped 
back  down  the  side  of  the  rock,  and  looked  about  for  a 
path  leading  to  the  right. 

Not  long  till  he  discovered  one,  a  mere  trace  made  by 


254  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

wild  animals  through  the  underwood — sufficiently  practi- 
cable for  him,  as  he  could  work  his  way  through  any 
tangle  of  thicket.  Sprawling  along  it,  and  rapidly,  despite 
all  obstructions,  he  at  length  came  out  on  the  Acapulco 
Road,  a  wide  causeway,  with  the  moon  full  upon  it. 

The  track  was  easy  and  clear  even  now,  too  clear  to 
satisfy  him.  He  would  have  preferred  a  darker  night 
San  Augustin  had  to  be  passed  through,  and  he  knew  that 
in  it  were  both  serenes  and  algiiazils.  Besides,  he  had 
heard  the  moxos  at  the  monastery  speak  of  troops  sta- 
tioned there,  and  patrols  at  all  hours  along  the  roads 
around.  If  taken  up  by  these  he  might  still  hope  to  reach 
his  intended  destination  ;  but  neither  in  the  time  he  desired, 
nor  the  way  he  wished.  He  must  approach  the  man  with 
whom  he  meant  seeking  an  interview,  not  as  a  prisoner 
but  voluntarily.  And  he  must  see  this  man  soon,  to  make 
things  effectual,  as  the  reward  he  was  dreaming  of  sure. 

Urged  by  these  reflections,  he  made  no  further  delay  \ 
but  taking  to  the  dusty  road,  moved  in  all  haste  along  it 
In  one  way  the  moon  was  in  his  favour.  The  causeway 
was  not  straight,  for  it  was  still  a  deep  descent  towards  the 
valley,  and  carried  by  zig-zags  ;  so  that  at  each  angle  he 
•  was  enabled  to  scan  the  stretch  ahead,  and  see  that  it  was 
clear,  before  exposing  himself  upon  it.  Then  he  would 
advance  rapidly  on  the  next  turning-point,  stop  again,  and 
reconnoitre. 

Thus  alternately  making  traverses  and  pauses,  he  at 
length  reached  the  outskirts  of  the  pueblo, '  unchallenged 
and  unobserved.  But  the  problem  was  how  to  pass  through 
it ;  all  the  more  difficult  at  that  early  hour.  He  had 
heard  the  church  clock  tolling  the  hours  as  he  came  down 
the  mountain,  and  he  knew  it  had  not  struck  ten.  A 
beautiful  night,  the  villagers  would  be''  all  abroad;  and 
how  was  he  to  appear  in  the  street  without  attracting 


ON   DOWN   THE   MOUNTAIN.  255 

notice — he  above  all  men  ?  His  deformity  of  itself  would 
betray  him.  An  expression  of  blackest  bitterness  came 
over  his  features  as  he  thus  reflected.  But  it  was  not  a 
time  to  indulge  in  sentimentalities.  San  Augustin  must 
be  got  through  somehow,  if  he  could  not  find  a  way  around 
it 

For  this  last  he  had  been  looking  some  time,  both  to  the 
right  and  left  To  his  joy,  just  as  he  caught  sight  of  the 
first  houses — villa  residences  they  were,  far  straggling 
along  the  road — a  lane  running  in  behind  them  seemed  to 
promise  what  he  was  in  search  of.  From  its  direction  it 
should  enable  him  to  turn  the  village,  without  the  necessity 
of  passing  through  the  plaza,  or  at  all  entering  upon  the 
streets.  Without  more  ado  he  dodged  into  the  lane. 

It  proved  the  very  sort  of  way  he  was  wishing  for ;  dark 
from  being  overshadowed  with  trees.  A  high  park-like 
wall  extended  along  one  side  of  it,  within  which  were  the 
trees,  their  great  boughs  drooping  down  over. 

Keeping  close  in  to  the  wall  he  glided  on,  and  had  got 
some  distance  from  the  main  road,  when  he  saw  that  which 
brought  him  to  a  sudden  stop — a  man  approaching  from 
the  opposite  direction.  In  the  dim  light,  the  figure  was  as 
yet  barely  discernible,  but  there  was  a  certain  something 
in  its  gait — the  confidential  swagger  of  the  policeman — 
which  caught  the  practised  eye  of  Zorillo,  involuntarily 
drawing  from  him  the  muttered  speech, — 

"  Maltida  sea  /    An  alguazil !  " 

Whether  the  man  was  this  or  not,  he  must  be  avoided  ; 
and,  luckily  for  the  dwarf,  the    means  of  shunning   him 
were  at  hand,  easy  as  convenient.     It  was  but  to  raise  his 
long  arms  above  his  head,  lay  hold  of  one  of  the  over- 
hanging branches,  and  draw  himself  up  to  the  top  of  tb 
wall ;  which  he  did  upon   the  instant.     It  was  a  structr 
pf  adobes,  with  a  coping  quite  a  yard  in  width,  and  laid 


256  THE    FRE&  LANCES. 

along  this,  he  was  altogether  invisible  to  one  passing 
below. 

The  man,  alguazil  or  not,  neither  saw  him  nor  suspected 
his  being  there,  but  walked  tranquilly  on. 

When  he  was  well  beyond  ear-shot  the  dwarf,  deeming 
himself  safe,  was  about  to  drop  back  into  the  lane,  when 
a  murmur  of  voices  prompted  him  to  keep  his  perch. 
They  were  feminine,  sweet  as  the  sound  of  rippling  brooks, 
and  gradually  becoming  more  distinct  ;  which  told  him 
that  those  from  whom  they  proceeded  were  approaching 
the  spot.  He  had  already  observed  that  the  enclosure  was 
a  grand  ornamental  garden  with  walks,  fountains,  and 
flowers  ;  a  large  house  on  its  farther  side. 

Presently  the  speakers  appeared — two  young  ladies 
Sauntering  side  by  side  along  one  of  the  walks,  the  soft 
moonlight  streaming-  down  upon  them.  As  it  fell  full 
upon  their  faces,  now  turned  toward  the  wall,  the  dwarf 
started  at  a  recognition,  inwardly  exclaiming, — 

"  Santissima  1    The  senoritas  of  the  carriage !  " 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 
A  TALE  OF  STARVATION. 

IT  was  the  garden  of  Don  Ignacio's  casa  de  campo ;  the 
ladies,  his  daughter  and  the  Condesa.  The  lovely  night, 
with  balm  in  the  air  and  a  bright  moon  shining  through 
the  sky,  had  drawn  them  out,  and  they  strolled  through 
the  grounds,  keeping  step,  as  it  were,  to  that  matchless 
melody,  the  song  of  the  czenzontle.  But  note  of  no  night- 
ingale was  in  their  thoughts,  which  were  engrossed  by 
graver  themes. 

"  'Tis  so  strange  our  never  hearing  from  them,  and  not 
a  word  of  them.  What  do  you  make  of  it,  Ysabel  ?  Is 
it  a  bad  sign  ?  " 

The  question  was  asked  by  the  Dona  Luisa. 

"  That  we  haven't  heard  from  them  is — in  a  way/1  re- 
sponded the  Countess.  "  Yet  that  may  be  explained,  too. 
The  probability  is,  from  the  roads  being  all  watched  and 
guarded,  as  we  know  they  are,  they'd  be  cautious  about 
communicating  with  us.  If  they've  sent  a  messenger — 
which  I  hope  they  haven't — he  must  have  been  intercepted 
and  made  prisoner.  And  then,  the  message  ;  that  might 
compromise  us.  But  I  know  Ruperto  will  be  careful.  Not 
to  have  heard  0/"them  is  all  for  the  best — the  very  best.  It 
should  almost  assure  us  that  they're  still  free,  and  safe 
somewhere.  Had  they  been  recaptured,  we'd  have  know** 
before  this.  All  Mexico  would  be  talking  about  it." 

"  True,"  assented  Don  Ignacio's  daughter,  with  a  feeling 
of  relief.  "  They  cannot  have  been  retaken.  But  I  wonder 
where  they  are  now." 

*  8 


258  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

"  So  I  myself,  Luisita.  I  hope,  however,  not  at  that  old 
monastery  of  which  Ruperto  gave  me  a  description  in  one 
of  his  letters.  It's  somewhere  up  in  the  mountains.  But 
with  the  country  all  around  so  occupied  by  troops  it  would 
seem  an  unsafe  place.  I  trust  they've  got  over  the  Sierra, 
and  down  to  Acapulco.  If  they  have,  we  needn't  feel  s 
very  anxious  about  them." 

"Why  not,Ysabel?" 

"  Why  not  ?  Ah  !  that's  a  question  you  haven't  yet  come 
to  understand.  But  never  mind  the  reason  now.  You'll 
know  it  in  good  time  ;  and  when  you  do,  I've  no  fear  but 
you'll  be  satisfied  ;  your  father  too." 

Don  Ignacio's  daughter  was  both  puzzled  and  surprised 
at  the  strange  words.  But  she  knew  the  Countess  had 
strange  ways ;  and,  though  a  bosom  friend,  was  not  with- 
out some  secrets  she  kept  to  herself.  This  was  one  of 
them,  no  doubt,  and  she  forebore  pressing  for  an  explana- 
tion. 

What  the  Condesa  hinted  at  was  that  disaffection  in  the 
south,  the  expected  pronunciamento,  which,  if  successful, 
would  not  only  depose  the  Dictator,  but  of  course  also  his 
Cabinet  Ministers,  her  friend's  father  among  them.  With 
some  knowledge  of  coming  events,  she  declined  imparting 
this  to  the  Dona  Luisa  through  delicacy.  Right  was  she, 
also,  in  her  surmise  as  to  the  messenger ;  none  had  been 
intercepted,  none  having  been  sent  out,  just  for  the  reason 
surmised  by  her. 

They  had  made  a  turn  or  two  of  the  grounds,  thus  con- 
versing, when  both  came  to  a  sudden  stop,  simultaneously 
uttering  exclamations  of  alarm,  "Santissima!"  and  "Madre 
de  Dios  !  " 

"  What  can  it  be  ? "  gasped  Dona  Luisa.  "  Is  it  a 
man  ? " 

No  wonder  she  should  so  doubtingly  interrogate,  since 


A   TALE   OF   STARVATION.  259 

her  question  referred  to  that  strange  creature  on  the  top  of 
the  wall,  seeming  more  ape  than  human  being. 

That  he  was  human,  however,  was  to  be  proved  by  his 
being  gifted  with  the  power  of  speech,  put  forth  on  the 
instant  after.  Before  the  Countess  could  make  answer  to 
the  question  (of  course  overheard  by  him),  he  interposed, 
saying,— 

"  Pray,  don't  be  alarmed,  your  ladyships,  at  a  poor  miser- 
able creature  like  me.  I  know  that  my  body  is  anything 
but  shapely  ;  but  my  soul — that,  I  trust,  is  different  But, 
Senoritas,  surely  you  remember  me  ?  " 

While  speaking,  he  had  raised  himself  into  an  upright 
attitude,  and  the  moonlight  falling  upon  him  showed  his 
shape  in  all  its  grotesqueness  of  outline.  This,  with  his 
words,  at  once  recalled  their  having  seen  him  before.  Yes ; 
it  was  the  enano,  whom  the  big  Texan  had  swung  up  to  the 
box  of  their  carriage. 

Astonishment  hindering  reply  to  his  interrogatory,  he 
continued, — 

"  Well,  your  ladyships,  I'm  sorry  you  don't  recognise 
me  ;  the  more  from  my  being  one  of  your  best  friends,  or, 
at  all  events,  the  friend  of  your  friends." 

"  Of  whom  do  you  speak,  sir  ?  "  asked  the  Countess,  first 
to  recover  composure,  the  Dona  Luisa  echoing  the  interro- 
gatory. Both  were  alike  anxious  for  the  answer,  better 
than  half  divining. 

"  Two  worthy  gentlemen,  who,  like  my  poor  self,  had  the 
misfortune  to  get  shut  up  in  the  Acordada  ;  more  than  that, 
set  to  work  in  the  filthy  sewers.  Thanks  to  the  luck  of 
your  ladyship's  carriage  coming  past  at 'a  convenient  time 
we  all  escaped  ;  and  so  far  have  been  successful  in  eluding 
the  search  that's  been  made  for  us." 

"You  have  succeeded— all ?"  both  asked  in  a  breath 
their  eagerness  throwing  aside  reserve. 


26O  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

"  Oh  yes  ;  as  I've  said,  so  far.  But  it's  been  hard  times 
with  us  in  our  hiding-place;  so  hard,  indeed,  we  might  well 
have  wished  ourselves  back  in  the  prison." 

"  How  so,  sir  ?  Tell  us  all !  You  needn't  fear  to  speak 
out ;  we'll  not  betray  you." 

"  For  Dios  !  I'm  not  afraid  of  your  ladyships  doing  that 
Why  should  I,  since'  I'm  here  on  account  of  your  own 
friends,  and  on  an  errand  of  mercy  ?  " 

"  An  errand  of  mercy  ?  " 

"  Yes.     And  one  of  necessity  as  well.     Ah !    that   far 


more." 


"Go  on,  sir!     Please  tell  us  what  it  is!  " 

"  Well,  Sefloritas,  I've  been  deputed  on  a  foraging  ex- 
pedition. For  we're  in  a  terrible  strait — all  four  of  us. 
You  may  remember  there  were  four." 

"  We  do.     But,  how  in  a  terrible  strait  ?  " 

"  How?  Why,  for  want  of  food  ;  starving.  Up  in  the 
mountains,  where  we've  been  hiding  for  now  nearly  a 
month,  all  we've  had  to  live  upon  was  wild  fruits  and 
roots ;  often  eating  them  raw,  too.  We  daren't  any  of  us 
venture  down,  as  the  roads  all  round  have  been  beset  by 
spies  and  soldiers.  It's  only  in  sheer  desperation  I've 
stolen  through  them  ;  the  Seflor  Don  Ruperto  sending  me 
to  San  Augustin  in  the  hope  I  might  be  able  to  pick  up 
some  provisions.  I  was  just  slipping  the  village  the  back 
way,  when  an  alguazil  coming  along  made  it  necessary  for 
me  to  climb  up  here  and  hide  myself.  The  unlucky  part 
of  it  all  is,  that  even  if  I  get  safe  in,  I  haven't  the  where- 
with to  buy  the  eatables,  and  must  beg  them.  That  I  fear 
won't  be  easy  ;  people  are  so  hard-hearted." 

For  a  time  his  surprised  listeners  stood  silent,  giving  way 
to  sad  reflections.  Florencio  and  Ruperto  starving  ! 

"May  I  hope,"  continued  the  lying  wretch,  "your  lady- 
ships will  let  me  look  upon  this  accidental  encounter  as 


A    TALE    OF    STARVATION.       »  26  I 

a  God-send,  and  that  you  will  give  me  something  to 
buj " 

"  Oh,  sir,"  interrupted  the  Countess, "  we  will  give  you 
that.  Luisa,  have  you  any  money  in  your  purse?  I 
haven't  in  mine — nothing  to  signify." 

"  Nor  I  either — how  unfortunate  !     We  must " 

"  Never  mind  money,  your  ladyships  ;  money's  worth 
will  do  quite  as  well.  A  reloja^  rings,  anything  in  the  way 
of  jewellery.  I  chance  to  know  a  place  in  the  village  where 
I  can  convert  them  into  cash." 

"  Here,  take  this!"  cried  the  Countess,  handing  him  her 
watch,  the  same  which  had  been  hypothecated  to  Jose*,  but 
redeemed  by  a  money  payment. 

"  And  this  ! "  said  the  Dona  Luisa,  also  holding  out  a 
watch,  both  of  which  he  speedily  took  possession  of. 

"Tis  very  generous  of  your  ladyships,"  he  said,  stowing 
them  away  among  his  rags  ;  "the  proceeds  of  these  ought  to 
support  us  for  a  long  time,  even  allowing  for  the  reduced 
rate  I'll  have  to  accept  from  the  pawnbroker.  Afterwards 
we  must  do  the  best  we  can." 

As  he  spoke,  his  little  sparkling  eyes  were  avariciously 
bent  upon  certain  other  objects  he  saw  scintillating  in  the 
moonlight — bracelets,  rings  upon  their  fingers  and  in  their 
ears.  The  hint  was  hardly  needed.  Enough  for  them  the 
thought  that  more  help  might  be  required  by  those  dear  to 
them,  and  at  a  time  when  they  could  not  extend  it. 

In  less  than  five  minutes  after  both  had  divested  them- 
selves of  every  article  in  the  way  of  gQld  or  gems  adorning 
them.  They  even  plucked  the  pendants  from  their  ears, 
thrusting  all  indiscriminately  into  the  out-stretched  hands 
of  the  hunchback. 

"Gracias  ! — mil gracias  /  "  he  ejaculated,  crowding  every- 
thing into  his  pocket.  "  But  your  ladyships  will  scarce 
care  to  accept  thanks  from  me.  'Twill  be  more  to  your 


262  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

satisfaction  tc  know  that  your  generosity  will  be  the 
saving  of  valuable  lives,  "two  of  them,  if  I  mistake  not, 
very  dear  to  you.  Oh !  won't  the  Sefiores  I?on  Ruperto 
and  Don  Florencio  be  delighted  at  the  tale  I  shall  take 
back — the  Virgin  seeing  me  safe!  Not  for  the  provisions 
I  may  carry,  but  how  I  obtained  the  means  of  purchasing 
them.  But  as  time's  pressing,  Senorita,  I  won't  say  a  word 
more,  only  Adios  /" 

Without  waiting  for  permission  to  depart,  or  rejoinder  of 
any  kind,  he  slipped  down  from  the  wall,  and  disappeared 
on  its  other  side. 

It  was  an  abrupt  leave-taking,  which  alike  surprised 
and  disappointed  them.  For  they  had  many  questions 
to  ask,  and  intended  asking  him — many  anxieties  they 
wished  set  at  rest 


CHAPTER  L. 
AN  ENCOUNTER  WITH  OLD  ACQUAINTANCES. 

PASSING  out  of  the  San  Augustin  towards  the  city,  the  great 
National  Road,  as  already  said,  touches  upon  the  Pedregal, 
the  lava  rocks  here  and  there  rising  cliff-like  over  it.  On 
the  other  side  are  level  meadows  stretching  to  the  shore 
of  the  Laguna  de  Xochimilco ;  this  last  overgrown  with 
a  lush  aquatic  vegetation  called  the  cinta,  at  a  distance 
appearing  more  pastureland  than  lake.  Excellent  pastur- 
age is  afforded  on  the  strip  between ;  that  end  of  it 
adjacent  to  the  pueblo  being  apportioned  among  several  of 
the  rich  proprietors  of  villas,  who  turn  their  household 
stock  upon  it,  as  milch  kine,  and  horses  kept  for  the 
saddle  or  carriage. 

Just  about  the  time  when  the  hunchback  was  abruptly 
bidding  "Adios"  to  the  ladies,  a  man  might  have  been 
seen  moving  along  this  part  of  the  road  at  some  half- 
mile  distance  from  the  skirts  of  the  village,  with  face 
turned  cityward.  But  that  he  had  no  intention  of  journey- 
ing so  far  was  evident  both  by  his  gait  and  the  character 
of  his  dress.  He  was  going  at  a  slow  walk,  now  and  then 
loitering,  as  if  time  was  of  little  consequence.  Moreover,  he 
was  in  his  shirt  sleeves,  and  without  the  universal  serape, 
which  often  serves  for  both  cloak  and  coat.  Otherwise  his 
garb  was  the  ordinary  stable  wear  of  a  Mexican  gentle- 
man's servant ;  wide  velveteen  trousers  open  along  the 
outer  seams,  and  fended  with  leather  at  breech  and 

bottoms.     "  Batos  *'  and  a  black  glaze  hat  completed  his 

us 


264  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

habiliments,  with  a  scarf  of  China  crape,  the  ckammora, 
around  his  waist.  Scanning  the  face  shadowed  by  the 
broad  rim  of  his  sombrero,  it  was  seen  to  be  that  of  Jose*, 
Don  Ignacio's  groom  ;  while  his  errand  along  that  road 
could  be  guessed,  by  seeing  what  he  carried  over  his  arm 
— a  couple  of  slip  halters.  The  horses,  for  whom  they 
were  intended,  were  to  be  seen  standing  at  a  gate,  a  little 
further,  having  browsed  their  fill ;  a  pair  of  greys,  recognis- 
able as  the  famous  frisones ;  all  the  easier  now  from  one  of 
them  showing  a  split  ear.  They  had  been  turned  out  to 
cool  their  hoofs  on  the  soft  meadow  sward,  and  he  was  on 
his  way  to  take  them  back  to  their  stable. 

Along  the  other  side  of  the  road,  for  a  stretch  of  some 
distance,  extended  the  Fed  regal,  forming  a  low  ridge  with 
a  precipitous  face  towards  the  causeway.  As  the  cochero 
got  up  to  where  his  pets  were  expecting  him,  he  saw  a 
coyote  standing  upon  the  crest  cliff,  just  opposite  the  horses, 
in  an  attitude  and  with  an  air  as  if  it  had  been  holding  con- 
versation with  them.  Solely  for  frolic's  sake,  he  made  a 
rush  towards  it,  giving  a  swoop  and  swinging  the  halters 
around  his  head.  Of  course,  the  affrighted  animal  turned 
tail,  and  retreated  ;  instantly  disappearing  from  his  sight. 

The  little  spurt  had  carried  him  in  under  the  shadow  of 
the  rocks  ;  and  as  he  faced  round  to  recross  the  moonlit 
causeway,  he  saw  coming  along  it  that  which,  by  some 
mysterious  instinct,  prompted  him  to  keep  his  place.  After 
all,  no  mystery  about  it ;  for  in  the  diminutive,  crab-like 
form  seen  approaching,  he  recognised  the  dwarf-hunchback 
who  had  shared  the  box  seat  with  him  on  that  day  never 
to  be  forgotten. 

Nothing  had  been  heard  of  the  creature  since,  so  far  as 
Jose  knew  ;  and  therefore  it  might  be  supposed  his  appear- 
ance would  have  been  welcome,  promising  some  news  of 
those  with  whom  he  had  been  last  seen.  But  so  far  from 


AN  ENCOUNTER  WITH  OLD  ACQUAINTANCES.  265 

the  cochero  stepping  out  into  the  road  to  receive  him,  he  but 
drew  closer  to  the  cliff,  where  an  enibayment  in  black 
shadow  promised  him  perfect  concealment.  - 

Soon  after  Zorillo  came  shuffling  along  through  the  dust, 
keeping  close  to  the  shaded  side  of  the  road.  Having 
cleared  the  skirts  of  the  village,  however,  he  was  less  care- 
ful now.  Not  likely  there  would  be  any  one  abroad  at  that 
hour — for  it  had  gone  ten — but  if  so,  there  was  the  Pedre- 
gal  alongside,  to  which  he  could  retreat.  Evidently  he  had 
not  seen  Jose",  as  when  first  seen  himself  he  was  turning  a 
corner,  and  the  other  had  been  for  some  time  in  shadow. 

When  nearly  opposite  the  meadow  gate  he  also  made 
a  stop,  with  a  start,  at  perceiving  the  two  horses'  heads 
stretched  over  it,  one  with  a  cleft  ear  !  His  start  came 
through  recognition  of  them. 

"  Oho ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  you  there,  too,  my  noble 
frisonesf  Caspita!  this  is  meeting  one's  old  acquaint- 
ances all  in  a  heap !  It  now  only  needs  to  encounter 
cochero,  and  the  party  will  be  complete !  Well,  I  may 
live  in  hope  to  see  him  too,  sometime ;  and  won't  there  be 
a  reckoning  when  we're  all  together  again  ?  " 

He  was  about  to  pass  on,  when  a  clattering  of  hoofs 
was  heard  behind,  in  the  direction  of  the  pueblo,  as  if 
horsemen  were  issuing  out  of  it.  Shortly  after,  a  dark 
clump  was  seen  rounding  the  corner,  and  coming  on  along 
the  white  ribband  of  road.  The  sabres  clanking  against 
stirrup-irons  proclaimed  it  a  cavalry  troop. 

Like  a  tarantula  retreating  to  its  tree-cave,  the  dwarf 
darted  in  under  the  cliff,  there  crouching  down — so  close 
to  Jose*  that  the  latter  could  have  almost  touched  him  with 
the  tips  of  his  fingers.  He  had  no  desire  to  do  so,  no 
thought  of  it ;  but  the  very  opposite.  His  wish  was  to 
avoid  an  encounter  ;  and  good  reason  for  it,  as  he  was 
soon  after  made  aware.  Fortunately  for  him,  the  hunch- 


266  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

back  neither  saw  nor  had  a  suspicion  of  his  proximity. 
With  face  turned  to  the  road,  he  was  altogether  occupied 
with  the  party  approaching. 

The  Hussars  turned  out — an  escort  of  some  eight  or  ten 
files,  with  two  officers  at  its  head  ;  these  riding  side  by 
side,  and  a  little  in  advance.  They  were  chatting  gaily 
and  rather  vociferously  ;  the  voice  of  him  who  spoke  loud- 
est being  well  known  to  Jose".  For  Colonel  Santander, 
whether  welcome  or  not,  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  the 
casa  de  campo  of  Don  Ignacio  Valverde.  And  the  dwarf 
now  remembered  it  too,  as  he  did  so  abandoning  all 
attempt  at  concealment,  and  gliding  out  into  the  middle 
of  the  road. 

"  Carajo  I "  simultaneously  shouted  the  two  officers,  as 
their  horses  reared  up,  snorting  at  the  strange  shape  so 
suddenly  presented  before  them.  "  What  the  Demonic  is 
it,  if  not  Satan  himself  ? "  added  Santander. 

"  No,  Setter  Coronet?  returned  Zorillo.  "  Not  the  devil ; 
only  a  poor  creature  whom  God  has  cursed  by  making  him 
in  a  shape  that  isn't  altogether  fashionable.  But  just  for 
that  reason  I  trust  being  recalled  to  your  Excellency's 
remembrance — am  I  not?" 

*  Ah  !     You  were  in  the  Acordada  ?  w 

"  Si,  Seflor  Coronet? 

"  And  'twas  you  I  saw  coupled  to  the  Tejano  ?  " 

"  The  same,  Seilor.  In  that  prosecuted  by  a  like  ill,  no 
doubt,  the  devil  all  the  time  directing  it" 

"  But  where  have  you  been  since,  sirrah  ?  " 

"Ah  !  Excetlenza  !  that's  just  it ;  the  very  thing  I  want 
to  tell  you.  I  was  on  my  way  to  the  city  in  hopes  of 
obtaining  an  interview  with  you.  What  a  bit  of  fortune 
you  passing  here :  'twill  save  me  a  journey  I  was  ill  able 
to  make ;  for  I'm  quite  worn  out,  and  weak,  from  being 
starved  up  there  in  the  mountains." 


AN   ENCOUNTER   WITH   OLD   ACQUAINTANCES.      267 

"  Oh !  you Ve  been  up  there  ?  " 

"Yes,  Sefior  Coronel,  in  hiding  with  the  others.  But 
not  like  them  voluntarily.  They  took  me  along  with  them, 
whether  I  would  or  no,  and  have  kept  me  ever  since — till 
this  night,  when  an  opportunity  offered  for  giving  them  the 
slip.  It  isn't  all  of  four  hours  since  I  parted  company  with 
them.  But  if  your  Excellency  wishes  to  hear  the  whole 
story,  perhaps  you'd  like  it  better  in  private.  If  I  mistake 
not,  some  of  it  should  only  reach  your  own  ears." 

Santander  had  been  already  thinking  of  this,  and  turning 
to  the  officer  by  his  side,  he  said, — 

"  Take  the  men  on,  Ramirez.  Halt  at  a  hundred  yards 
or  so,  and  wait  for  me." 

In  obedience  to  the  order  the  escort  moved  on,  stopping 
as  directed,  the  dialogue  between  Santander  and  the  dwarf 
meanwhile  continuing.  It  was  more  of  a  monologue,  the 
latter  giving  a  detailed  relation  of  all  that  had  occurred  to 
him  since  the  time  of  their  escape  from  the  chain-gang, 
with  comments  and  suggestions  added. 

After  hearing  all,  Santander  rose  in  his  stirrups,  his 
features  showing  triumph,  such  as  Satan  might  feel  at  a 
world  of  souls  just  delivered  to  him. 

"  The  game  is  mine  at  last ! "  he  muttered  to  himself, 
"  every  trick  of  it  They're  in  a  trap  now ;  and  when  they 
go  out  of  it,  'twill  be  to  the  garrota" 

For  a  moment  he  sat  silent,  apparently  considering  what 
was  his  best  course  to  pursue.  Then,  seemingly  having 
decided,  he  called  out, — 

"  Ramirez !  Send  a  couple  of  men  to  me — the  corporal 
and  another." 

These,  detached  from  the  escort,  came  trotting  back 
along  the  road. 

"Here,  cabo!  Take  charge  of  this*  curious  specimen. 
Keep  him  here,  and  see  that  you  hold  him  safe  till  you 


268  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

have  my  orders  for  releasing  him.     Don't  stray  from  this 
spot  as  you  value  your  own  neck — not  an  inch." 

Saying  which  he  put  spurs  to  his  horse,  and  rejoined  his 
escort  Then  commanding,  "  Forward !  at  the  double 
quick ! "  they  started  off  at  full  gallop  towards  the  city. 


CHAPTER   LI. 
A  GRUMBLING  GUARD. 

PART  of  the  dialogue  between  Santander  and  the  hunch- 
back was  overheard  by  Jose* — enough  of  it  to  give  him  the 
trembles.  Among  its  revelations  was  nought  relating  to 
himself,  or  his  connivance  at  the  escape  of  the  prisoners. 
For  all,  he  could  see  that  he  was  now  in  as  much  danger 
as  they  who  were  in  hiding.  The  Colonel  of  Hussars  had 
gone  on  to  the  city,  perhaps  to  complete  some  duty  already 
engaging  him,  but  as  likely  to  obtain  a  stronger  force. 
And  as  his  words  told,  he  would  return  again ;  and  no 
doubt  make  direct  for  the  old  monastery,  the  dwarf  guiding 
him. 

The  first  thought  of  the  faithful  cochero  was  not  about 
himself,  nor  his  horses.  These  might  stay  in  the  meadow 
all  night,  as  they  were  now  likely  to  do.  The  lives  of  men 
were  at  stake — his  own  among  the  number — and  his  sole 
purpose  now  was  to  get  home,  report  what  he  had  heard  to 
his  young  mistress  and  the  Condesa ;  then  hasten  up  the 
mountain  to  warn  the  imperilled  ones.  As  good  luck 
would  have  it,  he  knew  the  place  they  were  in.  Son  of  a 
carbontro,  when  a  boy  he  had  helped  his  father  in  the  char- 
coal-burning business ;  was  familiar  with  the  mountain 
forests,  and  their  paths,  and  had  more  than  once  been  at  the 
abandoned  monastery.  He  could  easily  find  the  way  to  it 
But  the  difficulty  was  to  get  back  to  his  master's  house — 
even  stir  from  the  spot  on  which  he  stood.  Soon  as  re- 
peiving  their  orders  the  two  Hussars  had  dismounted,  and 

869 


2  JO  TriE   FREE    LANCES. 

tied  up  their  horses,  one  on  each  side  of  the  rocky  em- 
bayment ;  they  themselves,  with  their  curious  charge, 
occupying  the  space  between.  It  was  not  possible  to  pass 
without  being  seen  by  them,  and  as  surely  seized. 

So  long  as  he  kept  his  place  he  might  feel  comparatively 
safe.  The  cove  was  of  a  three- cornered  shape,  with  luckily 
a  deep  dark  cleft  at  its  inner  angle,  into  which  he  had 
already  squeezed  himself.  While  the  moon  remained  low, 
and  the  cliff  made  shadow,  there  was  little  likelihood  of 
their  seeing  him,  unless  they  came  close  up.  Still,  the 
situation  was  aught  but  pleasant,  and  ere  long  became 
irksome  in  the  extreme  ;  the  conversation  to  which  he  was 
compelled  to  listen  making  it  so. 

The  two  Husares  did  not  seem  to  be  in  the  best  of 
temper  ;  the  corporal  more  especially  showing  signs  of 
dissatisfaction.  Groping  about  for  a  stone  to  seat  himself 
on,  he  grumbled  out, — 

"  Maddita  /  What  a  bore,  having  to  stay  here  till  they 
get  back.  Heaven  knows  when  that  will  be.  Like  enough 
not  before  morning.  I  thought  we  were  going  to  pass  the 
night  in  San  Augustin,  and  had  hopes  of  a  chat  with  that 
muchachita  at  the  house  where  the  colonel  visits." 

"  Pepita,  you  mean — lady's  maid  to  the  Dona  Luisa 
Valverde?" 

~~  "Of  course  I  mean  her,  the  pretty  dear;  and  have  reason 
to  think  she  is  a  bit  sweet  upon  me." 

Josh's  heart  was  on  fire — his  blood  boiling.  It  was  with 
difficulty  he  restrained  himself  from  springing  out  upon  the 
soldier  and  clutching  him  by  the  throat.  He  succeeded, 
however,  in  keeping  his  place,  if  not  his  temper  ;  for  it 
would  have  been  sheer  madness  to  show  himself  there  and 
then.  What  came  after  quite  tranquillised  him. 

"  Well,  cabo"  returned  he  of  the  rank  and  file,  seemingly 
without  fear  of  speaking  plain  to  the  non-commissioned 


A   GRUMBLING    GUARD.  271 

officer,  "  I  should  be  sorry  to  dash  your  hopes  ;  but  as  a 
friend  I  can't  help  saying  I  don't  think  you  have  much 
chance  in  that  quarter.  She's  a  step  higher,  that  same 
Pepita ;  holds  her  head  far  above  any  of  us  common 
soldiers " 

"  Common  soldiers !  I'm  a  corporal ;  you  forget  that, 
hombre.  But  why  do  you  think  my  chances  are  so  poor  ? " 

"  Because  I've  heard  say  there's  a  man  about  the 
establishment  to  whom  she's  already  given  what  heart  she 
may  have  had  to  give— that  they're  engaged.  The  fellow's 
groom  or  cochero^  or  something  of  the  sort" 

Jose*  breathed  easier  now,  noways  provoked  at  having 
been  spoken  of  as  a  "  fellow." 

"  Bah ! "  contemptuously  exclaimed  the  corporal. 
"  What  care  I  for  that  horse-cleaner  and  carriage-washer 
for  a  rival !  I've  cut  out  scores  of  such  before  now,  and 
will  do  the  same  with  him.  Lie  down  there,  you  devil's 
imp  ! "  he  added,  turning  savagely  upon  the  dwarf,  and 
venting  his  spleen  by  giving  the  creature  a  kick.  "  Down, 
or  I'll  break  every  bone  in  your  body." 

"Mercy,  master!"  expostulated  the  hunchback.  "Don't 
be  so  cruel  to  a  fellow-creature." 

"  Fellow-creature  !  That's  good,  ha,  ha,  ha  !  "  And  the 
brute  broke  out  into  a  hoarse  laugh,  till  the  rocks  echoed 
his  fiendish  cachinnation. 

"Well,  your  worship,"  rejoined  he  thus  inhumanly 
mocked,  with  an  air  of  assumed  meekness  ;  "  whatever  I 
am,  it  pains  me  to  think  I  should  be  the  cause  of  keeping 
you  here.  But  why  should  you  stay,  may  I  ask  ?  You 
don't  suppose  I'm  going  to  run  away  ?  If  I  were  with  you 
as  a  prisoner — but  I  am  not.  I  sought  an  interview  with 
your  Colonel  of  my  own  free  will.  Surely  you  saw  that ! " 

"True  enough,  he  did,"  interposed  the  soldier. 

"  A.nd  what  if  he  did  ?  "  growled  the  corporal. 


2/2  THE   FREE    LANCES. 

"  Only,  Seftor,  to  show  that  I  have  no  intention  to  pait 
company  with  you,  nor  wish  neither.  For  Dios  !  don't  let 
me  hinder  you  from  having  that  chat  with  the  muchachita. 
It's  but  a  step  back  to  the  pueblo,  and  like  as  not  she'll  be 
on  the  look  out  for  you,  spite  of  what  your  comrade  says. 
Maybe  he  has  an  eye  to  the  pretty  dear  himself,  and  that' 
why  he  wishes  to  discourage  you." 

As  this  rigmarole  was  delivered  in  the  most  comical 
manner,  it  put  the  soldiers  in  a  better  humour,  both  break- 
ing out  into  laughter. 

Of  course  the  corporal  had  no  thought  of  availing  himself 
of  the  permission  so  accorded.  Their  orders  were  strict  to 
stay  in  that  spot,  and  stay  they  must.  The  question  was, 
how  were  they  to  spend  the  time.  A  smoke  to  begin 
with  ;  and  they  drew  out  their  cigarritos,  with  flint,  steel, 
and  tinder. 

Soon  as  the  red  coal  appeared  beneath  their  noses,  said 
the  cabo  to  his  comrade, — 

"  By  the  way,  Perico,  have  you  your  cards  with  you  ?  " 

a  Did  you  ever  know  me  to  be  without  them  ?  " 

"  How  lucky  !     I  quite  forgot  mine." 

"That's  because  your  mind  was  bent  upon  Pepita.  I 
saw  you  giving  your  moustache  an  extra  twist  this  even- 
ing." 

"  Oh !  bother  Pepita.     Let's  have  an  albur  of  monte*." 

"  How  about  light  ? " 

"The  moon's  clear  enough,  if  it  wasn't  we  could  manage 
with  our  cigars.  Many's  the  game  I've  olayed  that  way." 

"  All  right !  But  the  stakes  ?  I  haven't  a  cuartilla — nay, 
not  so  much  as  a  claco" 

"  Carramba!     Nor  I  either.     I  spent  the  last  on  a  drink 
just  before  we  got  into  the  saddle.     It's  bad  ;  but  w 
bet  upon  the  credit  system,  and  use  cartridges  fo~ 

" Ah,  stay!" 


A   GRUMBLING   GUARD.  273 

At  which  he  turned  his  eyes  upon  the  dwarf  with  a  look 
of  peculiar  significance,  cupidity  the  prevailing  expression. 

The  latter  saw  it  with  a  heaviness  of  heart,  and  a  shud- 
dering throughout  his  frame.  All  the  time  apprehensive 
about  the  plunder  with  which  his  pockets  were  crammed, 
he  instinctively  anticipated  what  was  coming. 


CHAPTER  LII. 
A   DANAE'S    SHOWER. 

i:!  NOW,  I  shouldn't  wonder/'  continued  the  corporal,  shift- 
ing upon  his  seat,  and  facing  fully  round  to  the  dwarf.  "  I 
shouldn't  at  all  wonder  but  that  this  diminutive  gentleman 
has  some  spare  cash  upon  him  ;  and  maybe  he'll  oblige  us 
by  a  little  loan,  considering  the  occasion  What  say  you, 
Seflor  Enano  f  " 

"  I  haven't  any,"  was  the  ready  answer.  "  And  sorry  to 
say  it  too — that  I  am." 

"  It  don't  look  much  like  he  has,"  observed  Perico,  with 
a  glance  at  the  hunchback's  tattered  habiliments. 

"Looks  are  not  always  to  be  relied  on,"  persisted  the 
corporal.  "Who'd  ever  suspect  a  pearl  inside  an  ugly 
oyster-shell  ? " 

"  I  haven't,  indeed,  Setter  C&bo"  once  more  protested  the 
dwarf  with  earnest  emphasis.  "If  I  had,  you'd  be  welcome 
to  the  loan  you  speak  of.  No  man  likes  a  game  of  monte 
better  than  myself. ,  Alas  !  so  far  from  being  in  funds,  I'm 
too  like  your  worships — without  a  claco.  I've  been  stripped 
of  everything  ;  and,  if  you  knew  my  story,  you'd  pity  me, 
I'm  sure.'1 

"  What  story  ? "  demanded  the  cabot  becoming  curious. 

"Why,  that  I've  been  robbed  of  all  the  money  I  had.  It 
wasn't  much/  to  be  sure,  only  two  pesetas  and  a  real,  but 
still  that  was  better  than  empty  pockets.  It  happened 
about  half  an  hour  ago.  I  was  on  my  way  to  San  Augustin, 
thinking  I'd  there  get  some  supper,  with  a  night's  lodging ; 


A   DANAE'S   SHOWER.  275 

when  not  far  from  this,  two  men — footpads  I  suppose  they 
were — rushed  out  from  the  roadside,  and  made  straight  at 
me.  One  took  the  right,  the  other  left  But  I've  good 
long  arms,  as  you  see,  pretty  strong  too ;  and  so  I  was 
able  to  keep  them  off  for  a  while.  Several  times  they 
caught  hold  of  my  wrists ;  but  I  succeeded  in  jerking  them 
free  again.  I  believe  I  could  have  wrestled  them  both,  but 
that  one  getting  angry,  pulled  out  a  long-bladed  knife,  and 
threatened  to  cut  my  throat  with  it.  For  dios  I  I  had  to 
surrender  then,  seeing  he  was  in  earnest." 

While  giving  this  somewhat  prolix  account  of  an 
altogether  imaginary  adventure,  he  had  started  to  his  feet, 
and  accompanied  his  speech  with  a  series  of  pantomimic 
gestures  ;  dancing  and  flinging  his  arms  about,  as  he  pro- 
fessed to  have  done  while  defending  himself  against  the 
footpads.  The  grotesqueness  of  the  performance,  though 
seen  only  in  the  dim  light — for  he  kept  under  the  shadow 
—set  his  listeners  to  laughing.  Little  dreamt  they  why 
he  was  treating  them  to  the  spectacle,  or  how  cleverly  he 
was  outwitting  them. 

But  there  was  a  third  spectator  of  the  scene,  unknown  to 
all  of  them,  who  was  aware  of  it  The  cocJiero  could  not  at 
first  tell  what  were  the  things  striking  him  in  the  pit  of  the 
stomach,  as  if  he  was  being  pelted  with  pebbles !  But  he 
could  see  they  came  from  the  hands  of  the  hunchback, 
flung  behind  in  his  repeated  contortions  and  gesticulations. 

Moreover,  that  they  glistened  while  passing  through  the 
air,  and  looked  whitish  where  they  lay,  after  falling  at  his 
own  feet. 

"Well;  what  did  they  do  to  you  then?"  asked  the 
corporal,  when  he  and  his  comrade  had  finished  their 
guffaw.  "  Stripped  you  clean,  as  you've  said  ? " 

"  Ay,  Dios  t  Just  that,  Sefior.  Took  everything  I  had, 
except  the  rags  I  wear ;  and  to  them  I  might  well  have 
made  them  welcome.11 


276  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

"  Now,  are  you  sure  they  took  everything  ?  "  questioned 
the  other,  still  suspicious.  The  earnestness  of  the  dwarfs 
affirmation  made  him  so. 

"  Of  course,  Sefior.  Quite  sure.  I'll  swear  to  it,  if  you 
like." 

"Oh,  there's  no  need  for  the  formality  of  an  oath. 
Simpler  to  search  you !  and  more  satisfactory.  Draw  up 
here  in  front  of  me  !  " 

The  hunchback  obeyed  with  an  air  of  confident  alacrity. 
He  had  no  reluctance  to  being  searched  now,  knowing  his 
pockets  were  empty.  Of  which  the  searcher  satisfied  him- 
self by  groping  about  among  the  rags,  and  sounding  every 
receptacle  where  coin  might  be  kept 

But  if  he  found  no  money,  an  article  turned  up,  which 
no  little  surprised  himself  and  his  comrade — a  stiletto  ! 

"  Caspita ! "  he  exclaimed,  as  his  hand  touched  some- 
thing hard  in  the  waistband  of  the  dwarfs  breeches,  stuck 
behind  his  back.  "  What  have  we  here  ?  As  I  live,  a 
dagger ! "  drawing  it  out  and  holding  it  to  the  lightv 
"  Silver  hilted,  too !  Yes  ;  it's  silver,  sure ;  and  blade  beau- 
tifully chased — worth  a  doblone,  at  the  very  least !  " 

"  Half  mine,"  interrupted  Perico,  putting  in  his  claim. 

*  All  right,  camardo.  We'll  settle  that  by-and-by.  Now, 
you  limb  of  Satan  1 "  he  continued  to  the  hunchback,  "  you 
told  us  the  footpads  had  stripped  you  clean.  How  do  you 
explain  this  ? " 

"  Easily  enough,  your  worship.  They  only  thought  of 
trying  in  my  pockets,  and  the  stiletto  being  there  behind 
where  you've  found  it,  luckily  they  overlooked  it." 

"  Oh,  indeed  !  "  doubtingly  rejoined  the  corporal ;  "  and 
pray  how  did  you  become  possessed  of  it,  Sefior  Enano  f 
A  dagger  worth  a  doblone  isn't  a  likely  thing  for  such  as 
you  to  be  owner  of — that  is,  in  an  honest  way." 

M  I  admit,  your  worship,  it  isn't  likely.     For  all,  I  came 


A   DANAE7S    SHOWER.  277 

honestly  by  the  article.  It's  an  heirloom  in  our  family  ; 
belonged  to  my  great-great-grandfather,  and's  descended 
through  several  generations.  For  know,  Seflor,  my  an- 
cestors were  not  deformed  like  poor  me.  Some  of  them 
were  gallant  soldiers,  as  yourself.  Indeed,  one  of  them 
rose  to  the  rank  of  sergeant — that  was  my  mother's  grand- 
father ;  but  this  dagger  didn't  come  down  from  him,  being 
left  in  the  main  line." 

"  Well,"  laughingly  returned  the  corporal,  after  listening 
to  the  quaint  chapter  of  explanations,  "the  future  herald 
of  our  family  won't  have  to  trace  it  beyond  yourself. 
You're  now  under  our  protection,  and  have  no  need  to 
warlike  weapons.  So  we,  your  protectors,  will  take  the 
liberty  of  appropriating  the  historical  toy.  Get  out  the 
cards,  Perico !  Let  us  see  whether  it  is  to  be  yours  or 
mine." 

"  May  bueno  /  "  responded  Perico.  "  How  will  you  have 
the  game  ?  A  single  albur,  or  two  out  of  three  ?  " 

"  Well,  as  we've  only  the  one  stake,  and  no  end  of  time 
for  winning  and  losing  it,  we'd  better  make  it  the  long 
game." 

"All  right — come  on  !  I  have  the  cards  spread — sota  y 
caballo.  How  sweet  the  Queen's  face  looks  in  the  moon- 
light !  Ah !  she's  smiling  at  me,  I  know,  as  good  as  to 
say — '  Worthy  Perico,  that  silver-handled  weapon,  your 
corporal  tells  you  is  worth  all  of  an  onza,  will  ere  long  be 
thine."' 

"  Well,  lay  on  the  Queen  if  you  like.  I'll  go  the  Jack, 
with  all  his  grinning.  Now  shuffle,  and  deal  off." 

By  this  the  two  had  seated  themselves,  vis-a-vis,  just 
outside  the  verge  where  met  moonlight  and  shadow,  a  suite 
of  cards  turned  face  up  between  them,  the  dealing  pack  in 
the  hands  of  Perico.  The  hunchback,  on  his  knees,  with 
neck  craned  out,  was  a  spectator ;  but  one  whose  thoughts 


278  THE    FREE   LANCES. 

were  not  with  his  eyes.  Instead,  dwelling  upon  the  valu- 
ables he  had  so  cunningly  chucked  back,  making  the 
mental  calculation  as  to  how  much  they  might  be  damaged 
by  breakage,  but  caring  less  for  that  than  the  danger  of 
their  also  becoming  stakes  in  that  game  of  monte.  Could 
he  have  known  what  was  going  on  behind,  he  would 
possibly  have  preferred  it  so. 

The  unseen  spectator,  though  silent,  was  not  inactive, 
but  the  reverse.  From  the  moment  of  seeing  himself  shut 
up — as  it  were,  in  a  pen — he  had  given  all  his  thoughts  to 
how  he  might  escape  out  of  it.  It  needed  none  to  tell  him 
there  was  no  chance  frontwards  by  the  road.  A  rush  he 
might  make  past  the  two  soldiers,  risking  seizure,  and 
surely  having  the  bullets  of  their  carbines  sent  after  him. 
But  even  though  he  got  off  in  that  way,  what  would  be  the 
upshot?  The  hunchback  would  be  certain  to  recognise 
him,  remembering  all.  Knowing,  too,  that  his  dialogue 
with  the  Hussar  colonel  must  have  been  overheard,  he 
would  hasten  the  very  event  which  he,  Jose*,  was  now  all 
anxious  to  provide  against  The  word  of  warning  meant 
for  those  now  so  much  needing  it  might  reach  them  too 
late. 

All  these  thoughts  had  passed  through  the  cocherrfs  mind 
before  the  card-playing  commenced.  More,  too,  for  he  had 
carefully  inspected  the  cliff  overhead,  so  far  as  the  light 
would  allow,  aided  by  groping.  To  his  joy,  he  had  dis- 
covered that  there  was  a  possibility  of  scaling  it  A  sharp 
pinnacle  of  rock  was  within  reach  of  the  swing  of  his 
halters ;  and  skilled  in  the  use  of  the  laso,  over  this  he  had 
succeeded  in  flinging  the  headstall  of  one,  hooking  it  fast. 
It  but  remained  to  swarm  up  the  rope,  and  he  was  watching 
for  an  opportunity,  when  glittering  golden  things,  like  a 
Danae's  shower,  came  raining  against  his  ribs,  to  fall  at  his 
feet 


A  DANAE'S  SHOWER.  279 

He  saw  no  reason  for  these  being  left  to  lie  there,  but  a 
good  one  against  it ;  so,  stooping  cautiously  forward,  he 
gathered  up  all,  stowing  them  away  in  his  pockets.  Then 
turning  and  taking  hold  of  the  halter,  with  as  little  noise 
as  possible,  he  hoisted  himself  up  to  the  crest  of  the  cliff. 

The  soldiers  engrossed  with  their  game,  and  the  dwarf, 
though  but  a  spectator,  having  also  become  interested  in  it 
— none  of  the  three  either  saw  or  heard  him.  And  the  last 
he  heard  of  them  as  he  stole  silently  away  was  the  corporal 
delightedly  calling  out, — 

"  Sota  en  la  puerta,  mozo  !  The  dagger's  mine,  darling 
Perico  1 " 


CHAPTER  LIII. 
A  SERIES  OF  SURPRISES. 

THE  cocJtero  had  but  a  confused  idea  of  what  he  was  cany- 
ing  away  with  him.  By  the  feel,  watches,  with  chains  and 
bracelets ;  besides  some  smaller  articles  wrapped  in  bits  of 
paper.  The  uncertainty  of  his  getting  safe  up  the  cliff 
hindered  him  from  giving  them  even  the  most  cursory 
examination,  nor  did  he  think  of  doing  this  till  at  sufficient 
distance  from  the  card-playing  party  to  feel  sure  he  was 
beyond  danger  of  pursuit.  Then  the  temptation  to  have  a 
look  at  the  things,  which  had  so  strangely  and  unexpectedly 
come  into  his  possession,  became  irresistible ;  and  sitting 
down  upon  a  ledge  of  rock,  he  drew  them  out  into  the  light 
of  the  moon.  Two  watches  were  there,  both  gold,  and  one 
with  a  jewelled  case. 

"  Carrai  /  "  he  exclaimed,  as  his  eyes  fell  upon  the  latter, 
and  became  fixed  in  a  stare  of  blank  amazement,  "  can  it 
be  !  It  is — the  Condesa's  watch — the  very  one  she  would 
have  given  me !  But  how  came  the  hunchback  to  have 
it  ?  Surely  he  must  have  stolen  it.  The  other,  too,  with 
all  these  things  ! " 

He  looked  at  the  second  watch,  but  as  it  had  never  been 
in  his  hands  before,  he  was  unable  to  identify  it  Still,  it 
resembled  one  he  had  seen  his  mistress  wearing,  and  most 
Vkely  was  the  same. 

The  bracelets,  chains,  necklets,  and  brooches  would  be 
theirs,  too ;  as  also  the  rings  and  other  bijoutry,  which 
the  dwarf  had  found  time  to  do  up  in  paper. 

880 


A    SERIES    OF    SURPRISES.  2&I 

*  Stolen  them  ? "  continued  the  cochero  interrogatively, 
as  he  ran  his  eyes  over  the  varied  assortment. 

"  How  could  he  ?  The  watches  he  might,  but  the  other 
things?  Why  bless  me,  here  are  two  pairs  of  ear-rings — and 
these  grand  pendants — I'm  sure  I  saw  them  in  the  ears  of 
the  Condesa  this  very  day.  He  couldn't  have  taken  them 
without  her  knowing  it.  Santo  Dios  I  How  ever  has  he 
come  by  them  ? " 

As  he  thus  questioned  and  reflected,  a  feeling  of  ap- 
prehension began  to  creep  over  him.  A  little  before  leaving 
the  house  to  go  after  his  horses  he  had  observed  his  young 
mistress  and  the  Condesa  going  into  the  ornamental 
grounds.  And  they  went  alone ;  Don  Ignacio  having 
repaired  to  a  private  apartment,  where  he  was  accustomed 
to  shut  himself  up  for  the  examination  of  State  papers, 
what  if  the  ladies  were  still  in  the  grounds,  in  some  secluded 
spot,  lying  dead,  where  all  these  adornments  had  been 
stripped  from  their  persons  ! 

This  horrible  tableau  did  the  faithful  servant  in  imagi- 
nation conjure  up.  He  could  not  help  it.  Nor  was  the 
thing  so  very  improbable.  He  had  some  earlier  acquaint- 
ance with  the  desperate  character  of  the  dwarf,  which  later 
experience  confirmed.  Besides,  there  was  the  state  of  the 
country— thieves  and  robbers  all  round — men  who  made 
light  of  murder  ! 

With  a  heaviness  of  heart — a  painful  fear  that  there  had 
been  murder — he  stayed  not  to  further  examine  the 
trinkets  ;  but  gathering  all  up  again,  and  thrusting  them 
back  into  his  pocket,  hurried  on  home. 

And  when  home  he  went  not  to  his  own  quarters  in  the, 
coachyard,  but  straight  into  the  patio — the  private  court  of 
the  house.  There  he  encountered  Pepita ;  soon  as  he  set 
eyes  on  her,  asking, — 

"  Where  are  the  Senoritas  ?" 


282  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

"  What's  that  to  you  ?  "  saucily  retorted  the  maid. 

"  Nothing,  if  I  only  knew  they  were  safe." 

"  Safe !  Why  what's  the  man  thinking — talking  about  ? 
Have  you  lost  your  senses,  Jiombre  ?  " 

"No,  Pepita.  But  the  ladies  have  ]ost  something.  Look 
here  ! " 

He  had  plunged  both  his  hands  into  his  pockets,  and 
drawn  them  out  again  full  of  things  that  scintillated  in  the 
moonlight — watches  and  jewellery  of  different  kinds,  as  she 
saw.  With  a  woman's  curiosity,  gliding  swiftly  forward  to 
examine  them,  she  recognised  every  article  at  a  glance, 
amazement  overspreading  her  countenance,  as  it  lately  had 
his. 

"  A  de  mi !  "  she  exclaimed,  no  longer  in  jesting  tone. 
«  What  does  it  all  mean,  Jose*  ? " 

"  Just  what  I  want  to  know  myself,  and  why  I  am  asking 
after  the  Senoritas.  But  where  are  they  ?  " 

"  In  the  garden,  or  the  grounds  somewhere.  They 
strolled  out  about  an  hour  ago,  and  haven't  been  in  since." 

"  Pray  God,  they're  still  alive  !  Come  with  me,  Pepita. 
Let  us  look  for  them.  I  have  terrible  fears." 

So  appealed  to,  the  girl  gave  ready  assent ;  and  side  by 
side  they  hastened  towards  the  rear  of  the  house,  behind 
which  were  the  ornamental  grounds  extending  backwards. 
But  they  had  not  far  to  go  before  hearing  sounds  that  set 
their  minds  at  rest,  removing  all  anxiety—the  voices  of  the 
ladies  themselves.  They  were  not  only  alive,  but  laugh- 
ing ! 

To  Jose*  and  Pepita  this  seemed  strange  as  anything 
else — a  perfect  mystery.  Merry  after  parting  with  all 
those  pretty  things ;  costly,  too — worth  hundreds  of  dob- 
lones  !  Withal,  they  were  so  ;  their  lightness  of  heart  due 
to  the  knowledge  thus  gained,  that  their  own  lovers  were 
still  living  and  safe  ;  and  something  of  merriment,  added 


A   SERIES   OF   SURPRISES.  283 

by  that  odd  encounter  with  the  enano,  of  which  they  were 
yet  conversing. 

If  their  behaviour  mystified  their  servants,  not  less  were 
they  themselves  puzzled  when  Jose"  presented  himself 
before  them  with  hands  held  out,  saying : 

"  I  ask  your  pardon  for  intruding,  but  don't  these  belong 
to  your  ladyships  ?  " 

They  saw  their  watches  and  other  effects  obtained  from 
them  by  "  false  pretences,"  as  they  were  now  to  learn. 

The  revelation  that  succeeded  put  an  end  to  their  joyous 
humour  ;  their  hearts  that  had  been  light  for  a  moment 
were  now  becoming  heavier  than  ever.  The  treachery  of 
the  hunchback  and  his  intentions  were  manifest.  He 
meant  to  guide  Santander  and  his  soldiers  to  the  old 
monastery,  where  they  would  take  the  patriotas  by  surprise. 

"  What  is  to  be  done,  Ysabel  ?  "  despairingly  asked  the 
Donna  Luisa.  "  How  can  we  give  them  warning  ? " 

To  which  the  cocJicro,  not  the  Countess,  made  answer, 
saying: 

"  I  can  do  that,  Senorita." 

His  confident  tone  reassured  them ;  more  still  his 
making  known  the  design  he  had  already  conceived,  and 
his  ability  tc  execute  it.  He  was  acquainted  with  the  old 
convent  and  the  paths  leading  to  it — every  inch  of  them. 

It  needed  not  their  united  appeal  to  urge  him  to  imme- 
diate departure.  He  was  off  the  instant  after,  and  long 
before  the  clock  of  Talpam  had  struck  the  midnight  hour, 
well  up  the  mountain  road,  with  eyes  looking  to  the  right, 
in  the  direction  of  the  Cerro  Ajusco. 


CHAPTER  LIV. 
MONKS   NO   MORE. 

THE  surmise  which  had  influenced  Zorillo  to  leaving  the 
convent  cell  earlier  than  he  intended  was  a  correct  one. 
The  goings  on  in  the  Refectory  were,  at  the  time,  of  an 
unusual  kind — a  grand  occasion,  as  he  had  worded  it 
There  were  some  fifty  men  in  it ;  but  not  one  of  them 
now  effecting  either  the  garb  or  the  behaviour  of  the 
monk.  Soldiers  all ;  or  at  least  in  warlike  guise  ;  a  few 
wearing  regular  though  undress  uniforms,  but  the  majority 
habited  as  "  guerilleros,"  in  the  picturesque  costumes 
of  their  country.  They  were  booted,  and  belted,  swords 
by  their  sides,  with  pistols  in  holsters  hanging  against 
the  walls,  and  spurs  ready  for  buckling  on.  Standing 
in  corners  were  stacks  of  carbines,  and  lances  freshly 
pennoned,  with  their  blades  bright  from  being  recently 
sharpened — a  panoply  which  spoke  of  fighting  ere  long 
expected  to  take  place. 

It  may  be  asked  where  were  their  horses,  since  all  the 
arms  and  accoutrements  seen  around  were  those  of  cavalry  ? 
Hut  horses  they  had,  though  not  there.  Each  knew  where 
to  lay  hands  on  his  own,  far  or  near,  stalled  in  the  stable 
of  some  sequestered  rancho,  or,  it  might  be,  mountain 
cavern.  They  were  not  yet  assembled  to  hearken  to  the 
call  of  "  Boot  and  Saddle."  That  they  would  hear  at  a 
later  hour,  and  in  a  different  place. 

The  occasion  of  their  being  in  such  guise  and  together 
was  because  it  was  to  be  the  last  night  of  their  sojourn  in 

884 


MONKS   NO   MORE.  285 

the  monastery.  And  they  were  making  it  a  merry  one ; 
the  Refectory  table  was  being  loaded  with  the  best  that 
was  left  to  them  in  meals  and  drinks.  Upon  it  were  what 
bottles  remained  of  those  famous  wines  from  the  bins  of 
the  rich  haciendado — his  forced  contribution — and  they 
were  fast  getting  emptied.  From  the  way  the  convives 
were  quaffing,  it  was  not  likely  that  any  of  the  Burgundy, 
Madeira,  or  Pedro  Ximenes  would  be  left  behind — not 
even  a  "  heel-tap." 

It  had  got  to  be  midnight,  and  they  were  still  in  the 
midst  of  the  revelry,  when  Rivas,  who  headed  the  table, 
rose  to  his  feet,  in  that  formal  manner  which  tells  of  speech 
to  be  made  or  toast  proclaimed. 

"  Camaradas  /"  he  said,  as  soon  as  the  buzz  of  conversa- 
tion had  ended,  "  as  you're  aware,  we  part  from  this  place 
to-night ;  and  some  of  you  know  whither  we  are  going  and 
for  what  purpose.  But  not  all ;  therefore  I  deem  it  my 
duty  to  tell  you.  You  saw  a  courier  who  came  up  early 
this  morning — bringing  good  news,  I'm  glad  to  say.  This 
despatch  I  hold  in  my  hand  is  from  an  old  friend,  General 
Alvarez,  who,  though  he  may  not  boast  sangre-azul  in  his 
veins,  is  as  brave  a  soldier  and  pure  a  patriot  as  any  in  the 
land.  You  know  that.  He  tells  me  his  Pintos  are  ready 
for  a  rising,  and  only  wait  for  us — the  "  Free  Lances  " — 
with  some  others  he  has  summoned  to  join  him  in  giving 
the  grito.  By  his  messenger  I  have  sent  answer  that  we, 
too,  are  ready,  and  will  respond  to  his  summons.  You  all 
approve  of  that,  I  take  it  ?  " 

u  All  I "  was  the  exclaim  in  chorus,  without  a  dissenting 
voice. 

"  Moreover,"  proceeded  the  speaker,  "  I've  told  the 
General  we'll  be  on  the  march  to-morrow  morning,  and  can 
meet  him  at  a  place  he  has  mentioned  the  day  after.  His 
plan  is  to  attack  the  town  of  Oaxaca  ;  and,  if  we  succeed 


286  THE   FREE  LANCES. 

in  taking  it,  then  we  move  direct  on  the  capital  Now, 
camarados,  I've  nothing  more  to  say ;  only  that  you're  to 
scatter  after  your  horses,  and  lose  no  time  in  mustering 
again — the  old  rendezvous,  this  side  La  Guarda." 

So  ended  the  speech  of  the  Free  Lances'  leader;  but 
despite  the  suggestions  of  immediate  departure,  the  circle 
around  the  table  did  not  instantly  break  up. 

The  bottles  were  not  all  empty  as  yet,  nor  the  revellers 
satisfied  to  leave  them  till  they  should  be  so.  Besides, 
there  was  no  particular  need  of  haste  for  another  hour  or 
two.  So  they  stuck  to  the  table,  smoking,  drinking,  and 
toasting  many  things,  as  persons,  among  the  latter  their 
lately  joined  allies — the  Irlandes  and  Tejano,  about  whose 
proved  valour  on  other  fields,  of  which  they  had  heard,  the 
Free  Lances  were  enthusiastically  eloquent. 

Kearney,  speaking  in  their  own  tongue,  made  appropriate 
response ;  while  Rock,  when  told  he  had  been  toasted,  de- 
livered himself  in  characteristic  strain,  saying  : — 

"  Feller-citizens, — For  since  I  tuk  up  yur  cause,  I  reck'n 
you'll  gi'e  me  leave  to  call  ye  so — it  air  a  glad  thing  to  this 
chile  to  think  he'll  soon  hev  a  bit  o'  fightin'.  An*  'specially 
as  it's  to  be  agin  ole  Santy,  the  durned  skunk.  By  the 
jumpin'  Geehosofat !  if  Cris  Rock  iver  gits  longside  him 
agin,  as  he  war  on't  San  Jacinty,  there  wan't  be  no  more 
meercy  for  the  cussed  tyrant,  same  as,  like  a  set  of  fools, 
we  Texans  showed  him  thar  an'  then.  Tell  them  what  I 
sayed,  Cap." 

With  which  abrupt  wind-up  he  dropped  back  upon  his 
seat,  gulping  down  a  tumblerful  of  best  Madeira,  as  though 
it  were  table-beer. 

Kearney  did  tell  them,  translating  his  comrade's  speech 
faithfully  as  the  patois  would  permit ;  which  heightened 
their  enthusiasm,  many  of  them  starting  to  their  feet,  rush- 
ing round  the  table,  and,  Mexican  fashion,  enfolding  the 
Tejano  in  friendly  embrace. 


MONKS    NO    MORE.  287 

The  hugging  at  an  end,  there  was  yet  another  to'ist  to 
follow,  the  same  which  always  wound  up  the  festivals  of 
the  "  Free  Lances,"  whatever  the  occasion.  Their  leader, 
as  often  before,  now  again  pronounced  it — 

"  P atria  y  Libertad  I " 

And  never  before  did  it  have  more  enthusiastic  reception, 
the  cheer  that  rang  through  the  old  convent,  louder  than 
any  laughter  of  monks  who  may  have  ever  made  it  their 
home. 

Ere  it  had  ceased  reverberating,  the  door  of  the  Refectory 
was  suddenly  pushed  open,  and  a  man  rushed  into  the 
room,  as  he  entered,  crying  out — 

"Tratcum/" 

"  Treason  !  "  echoed  fifty  voices  as  one,  all  again  starting 
to  their  feet,  and  turning  faces  towards  the  alarmist  The 
major-domo  it  was,  who,  as  the  other  mozos,  was  half 
equipped  for  a  journey. 

"  What  mean  you,  Gregorio  ?  "  demanded  his  master. 

"  There's  one  can  tell  you  better  than  I,  Don  Ruperto." 

"Who?     Where  is  he?" 

"  Outside,  Seftor.  A  messenger  who  has  just  come  up — 
he's  from  San  Augustin." 

"  But  how  has  he  passed  our  sentry." 

"Ah  !  capitano  ;  I'd  rather  he  told  you  himself." 

Mysterious  speech  on  the  part  of  the  major-domo,  which 
heightened  the  apprehension  of  those  hearing  it. 

"  Call  him  hither!"  commanded  Rivas. 

No  calling  was  needed ;  the  person  spoken  of  being  in 
the  environ  close  by  ;  and  Gregorio,  again  opening  the 
door,  drew  him  inside. 

"  The  cochero  ! "  mentally  exclaimed  Rivas,  Kearney, 
and  the  Texan,  soon  as  setting  eyes  on  him. 

The  cochero  it  was,  Jose",  though  they  knew  not  his  name, 
nor  anything  more  of  him  than  what  they  had  learned  in 


288  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

that  note  of  the  Condesa's,  saying  that  he  could  be  trusted, 
and  their  brief  association  with  him  afterwards — which 
gave  them  proof  that  he  could. 

As  he  presented  himself  inside  the  room  he  seemed 
panting  for  breath,  and  really  was.  He  had  only  just 
arrived  up  the  steep  climb,  and  exchanged  hardly  half  a 
dozen  words  with  the  major-domo,  who  had  met  him  at 
the  outside  entrance. 

Announced  as  a  messenger,  neither  the  Captain  of  the 
Free  Lances  nor  Florence  Kearney  needed  telling  who 
sent  him.  A  sweet  intuition  told  them  that.  Rivas  but 
asked, — 

"  How  have  you  found  the  way  up  here  ?  " 

"For  Dios !  Senor,  I've  been  here  before — many's  the 
time.  I  was  born  among  these  mountains — am  well  ac- 
quainted with  all  the  paths  everywhere  around." 

"But  the  sentry  below.  How  did  you  get  past  him? 
You  haven't  the  countersign  !  " 

"He  wouldn't  have  heard  it  if  I  had,  Sefior.  Pobrel 
he'll  never  hear  countersign  again — nor  anything  else." 

"  Why  ?     Explain  yourself !  " 

"  Esta  muerto  I  He  lies  at  the  bottom  of  the  cliff,  his 
body  crushed " 

"  Who  has  done  it  ?  Who's  betrayed  us  ?  "  interrupted 
a  volley  of  voices. 

"The  hunchback,  Zorillo,"  answered  Jos6,  to  the 
astonishment  of  all.  For  in  the  dialogue  between  the 
dwarf  and  Santander,  he  had  heard  enough  to  anticipate 
the  ghastly  spectacle  awaiting  him  on,  his  way  up  the 
mountain. 

Cries  of  anger  and  vengeance  were  simultaneously  sent 
up ;  all  showing  eager  to  rush  from  the  room.  They  but 
waited  for  a  word  more. 

Rivas,   however,  suspecting  that  the  messenger  meant 


MONKS   NO   MORE.  289 

that  word  for  himself,  claimed  their  indulgence,  and  led 
him  outside,  inviting  Kearney  to  accompany  them. 

Though  covering  much  ground,  and  relating  to  many 
incidents,  the  cocherds  story  was  quickly  told.  Not  in  the 
exact  order  of  occurrence,  but  as  questioned  by  his  im- 
patient listeners.  He  ran  rapidly  over  all  that  happened 
since  their  parting  at  the  corner  of  the  Coyoacan  road,  the 
latter  events  most  interesting  them.  Surprised  were  they 
to  hear  that  Don  Ignacio  and  his  daughter  for  some  time 
had  been  staying  at  San  Augustin — the  Condesa  with 
them.  Had  they  but  known  that  before,  in  all  probability 
things  would  not  have  been  as  now.  Possibly  they  might 
have  been  worse ;  though,  even  as  they  stood,  there  was 
enough  danger  impending  over  all.  As  for  themselves, 
both  Mexican  and  Irishman,  less  recked  of  it,  as  they 
thought  of  how  they  were  being  warned,  and  by  whom. 
That  of  itself  was  recompense  for  all  their  perils. 

Meanwhile  those  left  inside  the  room  were  charing  to  learn 
the  particulars  of  the  treason,  though  they  were"  not  all 
there  now.  Some  had  sallied  out,  and  gone  down  the 
cliff  to  bring  up  the  body  of  their  murdered  comrade; 
others,  the  major-domo  conducting,  back  to  the  place 
where  the  hunchback  should  be,  but  was  not.  There  to 
find  confirmation  of  what  had  been  said.  The  cell  un- 
tenanted  ;  the  window  bar  filed  through  and  broken  ;  the 
file  lying  by  it,  and  the  chain  hanging  down  outside.  • 

Intelligible  to  them  now  was  the  tale  of  treason,  without 
their  hearing  it  told. 

When  once  more  they  assembled  in  the  Refectory,  it 
was  with  chastened,  saddened  hearts.  For  they  had  come 
from  digging  a  grave,  and  lowering  into  it  a  corpse.  Again 
gathered  around  the  table,  they  drank  the  stirrup-cup,  as 
was  their  wont,  but  never  so  joylessly,  or  with  such  stinted 
acclaim. 


CHAPTER  LV. 
•ONLY  EMPTY  BOTTLES." 

ABOUT  the  time  the  Free  Lances  were  burying  their 
comrade  in  the  cemetery  of  the  convent  the  gate  of 
San  Antonio  de  Abad  was  opened  to  permit  the  passage 
of  a  squadron  of  Hussars  going  outward  from  the  city. 
There  were  nigh  200  of  them,  in  formation  "by  fours" 
— the  wide  causeway  allowing  ample  room  for  even  ten 
abreast 

At  their  head  rode  Colonel  Santander,  with  Major 
Ramirez  by  his  side,  other  officers  in  their  places  dis- 
tributed along  the  line. 

Soon  as  they  had  cleared  the  garita,  a  word  to  the 
bugler,  with  a  note  or  two  from  his  trumpet  quick  succeed- 
ing, set  them  into  a  gallop ;  the  white  dusty  road  and  clear 
moonlight  making  the  fastest  pace  easily  attainable.  And 
he  who  commanded  was  in  haste,  his  destination  being 
that  old  monastery,  of  which  he  had  only  lately  heard,  but 
enough  to  make  him  most  eager  to  reach  it  before  morn- 
ing. His  hopes  were  high  ;  at  last  he  was  likely  to  make 
a  coup — that  capture  so  much  desired,  so  long  delayed  ! 

For  nearly  an  hour  bridles  were  let  loose,  and  spurs 
repeatedly  plied.  On  along  the  calzada  swept  the  squadron, 
over  the  bridge  Churubusco,  and  past  the  hacienda  of  San 
Antonio  de  Abad,  which  gives  its  name  to  the  city  gate  on 
that  side.  Thenceforward  the  Pedregal  impinges  on  the 
road,  and  the  Hussars  still  going  at  a  gallop  along  its  edge, 
another  bugle-call  brought  them  to  a  halt. 

MO 


44  ONLY    EMPTY   BOTTLES." 

That,  however,  had  naught  to  do  with  their  halting,  which 
came  from  their  commander  having  reached  the  spot  where 
he  had  left  the  hunchback  in  charge  of  the  two  soldiers. 

He  need  not  hail  them  to  assure  himself  they  were 
still  there.  The  trampling  of  horses  on  the  hard  causeway* 
heard  afar  off,  had  long  ago  forewarned  the  corporal  of 
what  was  coming ;  and  he  was  out  on  th  e  road  to  receive 
them,  standing  in  an  attitude  of  attention. 

The  parley  was  brief,  and  quick  the  action  which  ac- 
companied it. 

"Into  your  saddle,  cabot"  commanded  the  colonel. 
"  Take  that  curiosity  up  behind  you,  and  bring  it  along." 

In  an  instant  the  corporal  was  mounted,  the  "  curiosity  " 
hoisted  up  to  his  croup  by  Perico,  who  then  sprang  to  the 
back  of  his  own  horse.  Once  more  the  bugle  gave  tongue, 
and  away  they  went  again. 

The  cavalcade  made  no  stop  in  San  Augustin.  There 
was  no  object  for  halting  it  there,  and  delay  was  the  thing 
its  commander  most  desired  to  avoid.  As  they  went 
clattering  through  the  pueblo^  its  people  were  a-bed,  seem- 
ingly asleep.  But  not  all.  Two  at  least  were  awake,  and 
heard  that  unusual  noise — listened  to  it  with  a  trembling 
in  their  frames  and  fear  in  their  hearts.  Two  ladies  they 
were,  inside  a  house  beyond  the  village,  on  the  road  running 
south.  Too  well  they  knew  what  it  meant,  and  whither  the 
galloping  cohort  was  bound.  And  themselves  unseen, 
they  saw  who  was  at  the  head  ;  though  they  needed  not 
seeing  him  to  know.  But  peering  through  the  jalousies^ 
the  moonlight  revealed  to  them  the  face  of  Don  Carlos 
Santander,  in  the  glimpse  they  got  of  it,  showing  spitefully 
triumphant. 

He  could  not  see  them,  though  his  eyes  interrogated  the 
windows  while  he  was  riding  past  They  had  taken  care 
to  extinguish  the  light  in  their  room. 


292  THE   FREE    LANCES. 

"  Virgin  Santissima !  Mother  of  God ! "  exclaimed 
one  of  the  ladies,  Luisa  Valverde,  as  she  dropped  on  her 
knees  in  prayer,  "  Send  that  they've  got  safe  off  ere  this !  " 

"  Make  your  mind  easy,  amiga  !  "  counselled  the  Condesa 
Almonte,  in  less  precatory  tone.  "  I'm  good  as  sure  they 
have.  Jose*  cannot  fail  to  have  reached  and  given  them 
warning.  That  will  be  enough." 

A  mile  or  so  beyond  San  Augustin  the  southern  road 
becomes  too  steep  for  horses  to  go  at  a  gallop,  without  risk 
of  breaking  their  wind.  So  there  the  Hussars  had  to 
change  to  a  slower  pace — a  walk  in  fact.  There  were 
other  reasons  for  coming  to  this.  The  sound  of  their  hoof- 
strokes  ascending  would  be  heard  far  up  the  mountain, 
might  reach  the  ears  of  those  in  the  monastery,  and  so 
thwart  the  surprise  intended  for  them. 

While  toiling  more  leisurely  up  the  steep,  any  one  chanc- 
ing to  look  in  the  hunchback's  face  wottld  there  have  ob- 
served an  expression  indescribable.  Sadness  pervaded  it, 
with  an  air  of  perplexity,  as  though  he  had  met  with  some 
misfortune  he  could  not  quite  comprehend. 

And  so  had  he.  Before  leaving  the  spot  where  the 
stiletto  was  taken  from  him,  he  had  sought  an  opportunity 
to  step  back  into  that  shady  niche  in  the  cliff  where  he 
had  lost  his  treasures.  The  montt  players,  unsuspicious  of 
his  object,  made  no  objection.  But  instead  of  there  finding 
what  he  had  expected,  he  saw  only  a  pair  of  horse-halters : 
one  lying  coiled  upon  the  ground,  the  head-stall  of  the 
other  caught  over  the  rock  above,  the  rope  end  dangling 
down ! 

An  inexplicable  phenomenon,  which,  however,  he  had 
kept  to  himself,  and  ever  since  been  cudgeling  his  brains 
to  account  for. 

But  soon  after  he  had  something  else  to  think  of :  the  time 
having  arrived  when  he  wa«  called  upon  to  give  proof  of  his 


"ONLY  EMPTY  BOTTLES."  293 

capability  as  a  guide.  Heretofore  it  had  been  all  plain 
road  riding  ;  but  now  they  had  reached  a  point  spoken 
of  by  himself  where  the  calzada  must  be  forsaken.  The 
horses,  too,  left  behind  ;  everything  but  their  weapons ; 
the  path  beyond  being  barely  practicable  for  men  afoot. 

Dismounting  all,  at  a  command— this  time  not  given  by 
the  bugle — and  leaving  a  sufficient  detail  to  look  after  the 
animals,  they  commenced  the  ascent,  their  guide,  seemingly 
more  quadruped  than  biped,  in  the  lead.  Strung  out  in 
single  file— no  other  formation  being  possible — as  they 
wound  their  way  up  the  zig-zag  w?th  the  moonlight  here 
and  there,  giving  back  the  glint  of  their  armour,  it  was 
as  some  great  serpent — a  monster  of  the  antediluvian  ages 
— crawling  towards  its  prey.  Silently  as  serpent  too ;  not 
a  word  spoken,  nor  exclamation  uttered  along  their 
line.  For,  although  it  might  be  another  hour  before  they 
could  reach  their  destination,  less  than  a  second  would 
suffice  for  their  voices  to  get  there,  even  though  but 
muttered. 

One  spot  their  guide  passed  with  something  like  a 
shudder.  It  was  where  he  had  appropriated  the  dagger 
taken  from  a  dead  body.  His  shuddering  was  not  due 
to  that,  but  to  fear  from  a  far  different  cause.  The  body 
was  no  longer  there.  Those  who  dwelt  above  must  have 
been  down  and  borne  it  away.  They  would  now  be  on 
the  alert,  and  at  any  moment  he  might  hear  the  cracking 
of  carbines — a  volley ;  perhaps  feel  the  avenging  bullet ! 
What  if  they  should  roll  rocks  down  and  crush  him  and 
the  party  behind  ?  In  any  case  there  could  be  no  surprisal 
now ;  and  he  would  gladly  have  seen  those  he  was  guiding 
give  up  the  thought  of  it  and  turn  back.  Santander  was 
himself  irresolute,  and  would  willingly  have  done  so.  But 
Ramirez,  a  man  of  more  mettle,  at  the  point  of  his  sword 
commanded  the  hunchback  to  keep  on,  and  the  cowardly 


294  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

colonel  dare  not  revoke  the  order  without  eternally  dis- 
gracing himself. 

They  had  no  danger  to  encounter,  though  they  knew 
not  that.  Neither  vidette  nor  sentinel  was  stationed  there 
now  ;  and,  without  challenge  or  obstruction,  they  reached 
the  platform  on  which  the  building  stood,  the  soldiers 
taking  to  right  and  left  till  they  swarmed  around  it  as  bees. 
But  they  found  no  honey  inside  their  hive. 

There  was  a  summons  to  surrender,  which  received  ho 
response.  Repeated  louder,  and  a  carbine  fired,  the  result 
was  the  same.  Silence  inside,  there  could  be  no  one 
within. 

Nor  was  there.  When  the  Hussar  colonel,  with  a  dozen 
of  his  men,  at  length  screwed  up  courage  to  make  a  burst 
into  the  doorway,  and  on  to  the  Refectory,  they  saw  but 
the  evidence  of  late  occupancy  in  the  fragments  of  a  supper, 
with  some  dozens  of  wine  bottles  "  down  among  the  dead 
men,"  empty  as  the  building  itself. 

Disappointed  as  were  the  soldiers  at  finding  them  so,  but 
still  more  their  commanding  officer  at  his  hated  enemies 
having  again  got  away  from  him.  His  soul  was  brimful  of 
chagrin,  nor  did  it  allay  the  feeling  to  learn  how,  when  a 
path  was  pointed  out  to  him  leading  down  the  other  side, 
they  must  have  made  off.  And  along  such  a  path  pursuit 
was  idle.  No  one  could  say  where  it  led — like  enough  to 
a  trap. 

He  was  not  the  only  one  of  the  party  who  felt  disap- 
pointed at  the  failure  of  the  expedition.  Its  guide  had 
reason  to  be  chagrined,  too,  in  his  own  way  of  thinking, 
much  more  than  the  leader  himself.  For  not  only  had  he 
lost  the  goods  obtained  under  false  pretences,  but  the  hope 
of  reward  for  his  volunteered  services. 

Still  the  dwarf  was  not  so  down  in  the  mouth.  He  had 
another  arrow  in  his  quiver — kept  in  reserve  for  reasons  of 


"ONLY  EMPTY  BOTTLES."  295 

his  own — a  shaft  from  which  he  expected  more  profit  than 
all  yet  spent  And  as  the  Hussar  colonel  was  swearing 
and  raging  around,  he  saw  his  opportunity  to  discharge  it. 

With  half  a  dozen  whispered  words  he  tranquillized  the 
latter ;  after  which  there  was  a  brief  conference  between 
the  two,  its  effect  upon  Santander  showing  itself  in  his 
countenance,  that  became  all  agleam,  lit  up  with  a  satis- 
fied but  malignant  joy. 

When,  in  an  hour  after,  they  were  again  in  their  saddles 
riding  in  return  for  the  cityr  a  snatch  of  dialogue  between 
Santander  and  Ramirez  gave  indication  of  what  so  gratified 
the  colonel  of  the  Hussars. 

"  Well,  Major,"  he  said,  "  we've  done  road  enough  for 
this  day.  •  You'll  be  wanting  rest  by  the  time  you  get  to 
quarters." 

.  "  That's  true  enough,  Colonel.  Twice  to  San  Augustin 
and  back,  with  the  additional  mileage  up  the  mountains — 
twenty  leagues  I  take  it — to  say  nothing  of  the  climbing." 

"  All  of  twenty  leagues  it  will  be  when  we've  done  with 
it.  But  our  ride  won't  be  over  then.  If  I'm  not  mistaken, 
we'll  be  back  this  way  before  we  lay  side  on  a  bed.  There's 
another  nest  not  far  off  will  claim  a  visit  from  us,  one 
we're  not  likely  to  find  so  empty.  I'd  rob  it  now  if  I  had 
my  way ;  but  for  certain  reasons,  mustn't  without  permit 
from  head-quarters ;  the  which  I'm  sure  of  getting ! 
Carajo  !  if  the  cock  birds  have  escaped,  I'll  take  care  the 
hens  don't." 

And  as  if  to  make  sure  of'it,  he  dug  the  spurs  deep  into 
the  flanks  of  his  now  jaded  charger,  again  commanding  the 
*  quick  gallop." 


CHAPTER  LVI. 
A  DAY  OF  SUSPENSE. 

DAWN  was  just  beginning  to  show  over  the  eastern  Cor- 
dilleras, its  aurora  giving  a  rose  tint  to  the  snowy  cone  of 
Popocatepec,  as  the  Hussars  passed  back  through  San 
Augustin.  The  bells  of  the  paroquia  had  commenced  toll- 
ing matins,  and  many  people  abroad  in  the  streets,  hurry- 
ing toward  the  church,  saw  them — interrogating  one 
another  as  to  where  they  had  been,  and  on  what  errand 
bound. 

But  before  entering  the  pueblo  they  had  to  pass  under 
the  same  eyes  that  observed  them  going  outward  on  the 
other  side ;  these  more  keenly  and  anxiously  scrutinising 
them  now,  noting  every  file  as  it  came  in  sight,  every  in- 
dividual horseman,  till  the  last  was  revealed  ;  then  light- 
ing up  with  joyous  sparkle,  while  they,  thus  observing, 
breathed  freely. 

For  the  soldiers  had  come  as  they  went,  not  a  man 
added  to  their  number,  if  none  missing,  but  certainly  no 
prisoners  brought  back  ! 

"  They've  got  safe  off,"  triumphantly  exclaimed  the 
Countess,  when  the  rearmost  files  had  forged  past,  "  as  I 
told  you  they  would.  I  knew  there  was  no  fear  after  they 
had  been  warned." 

That  they  had  been  warned  both  were  by  this  aware, 
their  messenger  having  meanwhile  returned  and  reported 
to  that  efftct.  He  had  met  the  Hussars  on  their  way  up, 
but  crouching  among  some  bushes,  he  had  been  unob- 

MM 


A   DAY   OF   SUSPENSE.  297 

served  by  them  ;  and,  soon  as  they  were  well  out  of  the 
way,  slipped  out  again  and  made  all  haste  home. 

He  had  brought  back  something  more  than  a  mere  ver- 
bal message — a  billetita  for  each  of  the  two  who  had  com- 
missioned him. 

The  notes  were  alike,  in  that  both  had  been  hastily 
scribbled,  and  in  brief  but  warm  expression  of  thanks  for 
the  service  done  to  the  writers.  Beyond  this,  however, 
they  were  quite  different  It  was  the  first  epistle  Florence 
Kearney  had  ever  indited  to  Louisa  Valverde,  and  ran  in 
fervid  strain.  He  felt  he  could  so  address  her.  With  love 
long  in  doubt  that  it  was  even  reciprocated,  but  sure  of 
its  being  so  now,  he  spoke  frankly  as  passionately. 
Whatever  his  future,  she  had  his  heart,  and  wholly.  If  he 
lived,  he  would  seek  her  again  at  the  peril  of  a  thousand 
lives ;  if  it  should  be  his  fate  to  die,  her  name  would  be 
the  last  word  on  his  lips. 

"  Virgen  Santissima  !  Keep  him  safe !  "  was  her  prayer, 
as  she  finished  devouring  the  sweet  words  ;  then,  refolding 
the  sheet  on  which  they  were  written,  secreted  it  away  in 
the  bosom  of  her  dress — a  treasure  more  esteemed  than 
aught  that  had  ever  lain  there. 

The  communication  received  by  the  Condesa  was  less 
effusive,  and  more  to  the  point  of  what,  under  present 
circumstances,  concerned  the  writer,  as,  indeed,  all  of  them. 
Don  Ruperto  wrote  with  the  confidence  of  a  lover  who 
had  never  known  doubt.  A  man  of  rare  qualities,  he  was 
true  to  friendship  as  to  his  country's  cause,  and  would  not 
be  false  to  love.  And  he  had  no  fear  of  her.  His  liens 
with  Ysabel  Almonte*  were  such  as  to  preclude  all  thought 
of  her  affections  ever  changing.  He  knew  that  she  was 
his — heart,  soul,  everything.  For  had  she  not  given  him 
every  earnest  of  it,  befriended  him  through  weal  and 
through  woe  ?  Nor  had  he  need  to  assure  her  that  her 


298  THE    FREE   LANCES. 

love  was  reciprocated,  or  his  fealty  still  unfaltering ;  for 
their  faith,  as  their  reliance,  was  mutual.  His  letter,  there- 
fore, was  less  that  of  a  lover  to  his  mistress  than  one  be- 
tween man  and  man,  written  to  a  fellow-conspirator,  most 
of  it  in  figurative  phrase,  even  some  of  it  in  cypher ! 

No  surprise  to  her  all  that ;  she  understood  the  reason. 
Nor  was  there  any  enigma  in  the  signs  and  words  of  double 
signification  ;  without  difficulty  she  interpreted  them  all. 

They  told  her  of  the  anticipated  rising,  with  the  attempt 
to  be  made  on  Oaxaca,  the  hopes  of  its  having  a  success, 
and,  if  so,  what  would  come  after.  But  also  of  something 
before  this — where  he,  the  writer,  and  his  Free  Lances 
would  be  on  the  following  night,  so  that  if  need  arose  she 
could  communicate  with  him.  If  she  had  apprehension  of 
danger  to  him,  he  was  not  without  thought  of  the  same 
threatening  herself  and  her  friend  too. 

Neither  were  they  now  ;  instead,  filled  with  such  appre- 
hension. In  view  of  what  had  occurred  on  the  preceding 
evening,  and  throughout  the  night,  how  could  they  be 
other?  The  dwarf  must  know  more  than  he  had  revealed 
in  that  dialogue  overheard  by  Jose*.  In  short,  he  seemed 
aware  of  everything — the  cochero's  complicity  as  their  own. 
The  free  surrender  of  their  watches  and  jewellery  for  the 
support  of  the  escaped  prisoners  were  of  itself  enough  to 
incriminate  them.  Surely  there  would  be  another  investi- 
gation, more  rigorous  than  before,  and  likely  to  have  a 
different  ending. 

With  this  in  contemplation,  their  souls  lull  of  fear, 
neither  went  that  morning  to  matins.  Nor  did  they  essay 
to  take  sleep  or  rest.  Instead,  wandered  about  the  house 
from  room  to  room,  and  out  into  the  grounds,  seemingly 
distraught. 

They  had  the  place  all  to  themselves ,  no  one  to  take 
counsel  with,  none  to  comfort  them ;  Don  Ignacio,  at  an 


A    DAY    OF    SUSPENSE.  299 

early  hour,  having  been  called  off  to  his  duties  in  the  city. 
But  they  were  not  destined  to  spend  the  whole  of  that  day 
without  seeing  a  visitor.  As  the  clocks  of  San  Augustin 
were  striking  8  p.m.  one  presented  himself  at  the  gate  in 
the  guise  of  an  officer  of  Hussars,  Don  Carlos  Santander, 
Nor  was  he  alone,  but  with  an  escort  accompanying. 
They  were  seated  in  the  verandah  of  the  inner  court,  but 
saw  him  through  the  sagiian,  the  door  of  which  was  open, 
saw  him  enter  at  the  outer  gate,  and  without  dismounting 
come  on  towards  them,  several  files  of  his  men  following. 
He  had  been  accustomed  to  visit  them  there,  and  tkey  to 
receive  his  visits,  however  reluctantly,  reasons  of  many 
kinds  compelling  them.  But  never  had  he  presented  him- 
self as  now.  It  was  an  act  of  ill-manners  his  entering 
unannounced,  another  riding  into  the  enclosure  with  sol- 
diers behind  him  ;  but  the  rudeness  was  complete  when 
he  came  on  into  the  patio  still  in  the  saddle,  his  men  too, 
and  pulled  up  directly  in  front  of  them,  without  waiting 
for  word  of  invitation.  The  stiff,  formal  bow,  the  expres- 
sion upon  his  swarthy  features,  severe,  but  with  ill-concealed 
exultation  in  it,  proclaimed  his  visit  of  no  complimentary 
kind. 

By  this  both  were  on  their  feet,  looking  offended,  even 
angry,  at  the  same  time  alarmed.  And  yet  little  surprised, 
for  it  was  only  confirmation  of  the  fear  that  had  been  all 
day  oppressing  them — its  very  fulfilment.  But  that  they 
believed  it  this  they  would  have  shown  their  resentment 
by  retiring  and  leaving  him  there.  As  it  was,  they  knew 
that  would  be  idle,  and  so  stayed  to  hear  what  he  had  to 
say.  It  was — 

4<  Senoritas,  I  see  you're  wondering  at  my  thus  present- 
ing myself.  Not  strange  you  should.  Nor  could  any  one 
more  regret  the  disagreeable  errand  I've  come  upon  than 
I.  It  grieves  me  sorely,  I  assure  you." 


3OO  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

"What  is  it,  Colonel  Santander?"  demanded  the  Coun- 
tess, with  sang-froid  partially  restored. 

"  I  hate  to  declare  it,  Condesa,"  he  rejoined,  "  still  more 
to  execute  it.  But,  compelled  by  the  rigorous  necessities 
of  a  soldier's  duty,  I  must." 

"Well,  sir;  must  what?" 

"  Make  you  a  prisoner  ;  and,  I  am  sorry  to  add,  also  the 
Dona  Luisa." 

"Oh,  that's  it!"  exclaimed  the  Countess,  with  a  scornful 
inclination  of  the  head.  "  Well,  sir,  I  don't  wonder  at  your 
disliking  the  duty,  as  you  say  you  do.  It  seems  more  that 
of  a  policeman  than  a  soldier." 

The  retort  struck  home,  still  further  humiliating  him  in 
the  eyes  of  the  woman  he  loved,  Luisa  Valverde.  But  he 
now  knew  she  loved  not  him,  and  had  made  up  his  mind 
to  humble  her  in  a  way  hitherto  untried.  Stung  by  the 
innuendo,  and  dropping  his  clumsy  pretence  at  politeness^ 
he  spitefully  rejoined, — 

"  Thank  you,  Condesa  Almonte*,  for  your  amiable  obser- 
vation. It  does  something  to  compensate  me  for  having 
to  do  policeman's  duty.  And  now  let  it  be  done.  Please 
to  consider  yourself  under  arrest ;  and  you  also,  Senorita 
Valverde." 

Up  to  this  time  the  last  named  lady  had  not  said  a 
word,  the  distress  she  was  in  restraining  her.  But  as  mis- 
tress there,  she  saw  it  was  her  turn  to  speak,  which  she 
did,  saying, — 

u  If  we  are  your  prisoners,  Colonel  Santander,  I  hope 
you  will  not  take  us  away  from  here  till  my  father  comes 
home.  As  you  may  be  aware,  he's  in  the  city." 

"  I  am  aware  of  that,  Dona  Luisa,  and  glad  to  say  my 
orders  enable  me  to  comply  with  your  wishes,  and  that  you 
remain  here  till  Don  Ignacio  returns.  I'm  enjoined  to 
•ee  to  your  safe  keeping — a  very  absurd  requirement,  but 


A   DAY   OF   SUSPENSE.  30 1 

one  which  often  falls  to  the  lot  of  the  soldier  as  well  as 
the  policeman? 

Neither  the  significant  words  nor  the  forced  laugh'  that 
accompanied  them  had  any  effect  on  her  for  whom  they 
were  intended.  With  disdain  in  her  eyes,  such  as  a  cap- 
tfve  queen  might  show  for  the  common  soldier  who  stood 
guard  over  her,  the  Condesa  had  already  turned  her  back 
upon  the  speaker  and  was  walking  away.  With  like  proud 
air,  but  less  confident  and  scornful,  Luisa  Valverde  fol- 
lowed. Both  were  allowed  to  pass  inside,  leaving  the 
Hussar  colonel  to  take  such  measures  for  their  keeping 
as  he  might  think  fit. 

His  first  step  was  to  order  in  the  remainder  of  his  es- 
cort and  distribute  them  around  the  house,  so  that  in 
ten  minutes  after  the  casa  de  campo  of  Don  Ignacio  Val- 
verde bore  resemblance  to  a  barrack,  with  sentinels  at 
every  entrance  and  corner ! 


CHAPTER    LVII. 

UNDER  ARREST. 

SCARCE  necessary  to  say  that  Luisa  Valverde  and  Ysabel 
Almonte*  were  at  length  really  alarmed — fully  alive  to  a 
sense  of  their  danger. 

It  was  no  more  a  question  of  the  safety  of  their  lovers, 
but  their  own.  And  the  prospect  was  dark,  indeed.  San- 
tander  had  said  nothing  of  the  reason  for  arresting  them  ; 
nor  had  they  cared  to  inquire.  They  divined  it ;  no  longer 
doubting  that  it  was  owing  to  revelations  made  by  the 
hunchback. 

Sure  now  that  this  diminutive  wretch  not  only  himself 
knew  their  secret,  but  had  made  it  known  in  higher 
quarters,  there  seemed  no  hope  for  them ;  instead,  ruin 
staring  them  in  the  face.  The  indignity  to  their  persons 
they  were  already  experiencing  would  be  followed  by 
social  disgrace,  and  confiscation  of  property. 

"Oh,  Ysabelita!  what  will  they  do  to  us?"  was  the 
Dona  Luisa's  anxious  interrogatory,  soon  as  they  had  got 
well  inside  their  room.  "  Do  you  think  they'll  put  us  in 
a  prison  ? " 

"Possibly  they  will  I  wish  there  was  nothing  worse 
awaiting  us." 

"  Worse !  Do  you  mean  they'd  inflict  punishment  on 
us — that  is,  corporal  punishment  ?  Surely  they  daren't  ?  " 

"  Daren't !  Santa  Anna  dare  anything — at  least,  neither 
shame  nor  mercy  will  restrain  him.  No  more  this  other 

103 


UNDER    ARREST.  303 

man,  his  minion,  whom  you  know  better  than  I.  But  it 
isn't  punishment  of  that  kind  I'm  thinking  of." 

"  What  then,  Ysabel  ?  The  loss  of  our  property  ?  It'll 
be  all  taken  from  us,  I  suppose." 

"  In  all  likelihood  it  will,"  rejoined  the  Condesa,  with  as 
much  unconcern  as  though  her  estates,  value  far  more 
than  a  million,  were  not  worth  a  thought 

"  Oh  !  my  father  !  This  new  misfortune,  and  all  owing 
to  me.  Twill  kill  him  !  " 

"  No,  no,  Lusita !  Don't  fear  that.  He  will  survive  it; 
if  aught  survives  of  our  country's  liberty.  And  it  will,  all 
of  it,  be  restored  again.  'Tis  something  else  I  was  think- 
ing of." 

Again  the  other  asked  "  What  ?  *  fter  countenance  show- 
ing increased  anxiety. 

"  What  we  as  women  have  more  to  fear  than  aught  else. 
From  the  loss  of  lands,  houses,  riches  of  any  sort,  one  may 
recover — from  the  loss  of  that,  never  !" 

Enigmatic  as  were  the  words,  Luisa  Valverde  needed 
no  explanation  of  them,  nor  pressed  for  it.  She  compre- 
hended all  now,  and  signified  her  apprehension  by  exclaim- 
ing, with  a  shudder,  "  Virgen  Santissima  !  " 

"  The  prison  they  will  take  us  to,"  pursued  the  Countess, 
"  is  a  place— that  in  the  Plaza  Grande.  We  shall  be  im- 
rnured  there,  and  at  the  mercy  of  that  man,  that  monster ! 
O  God  !— O  Mother  of  God,  protect  me !  " 

At  which  she  dropped  down  upon  a  couch  despairingly, 
with  face  buried  in  her  hands. 

It  was  a  rare  thing  for  the  Condesa  Almonte*  to  be  so 
moved — rather,  to  show  despondence — and  her  friend  was 
affected  accordingly.  For  there  was  another  man  at  whose 
mercy  she  herself  would  be — one  like  a  monster,  and  as 
she  well  knew  equally  unmerciful — he  who  at  that  moment 
was  under  the  same  roof  with  them — in  her  father's  house, 
for  the  time  its  master. 


304  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

"  But,  Ysabel,"  she  said,  hoping  against  hope,  "  surely 
they  will  not  dare  to " 

She  left  the  word  unspoken,  knowing  it  was  not  needed 
to  make  her  meaning  understood. 

"  Not  dare ! "  echoed  the  Countess,  recovering  nerve 
and  again  rising  to  her  feet.  "As  I've  said,  he'll  dare 
anything — will  Don  Antonio  Lopes  De  Santa  Anna. 
Besides,  what  has  he  to  fear  ?  Nothing.  He  can  show 
good  cause  for  our  imprisonment,  else  he  would  nevei 
have  had  us  arrested.  Enough  to  satisfy  any  clamour  of 
the  people.  And  how  would  any  one  ever  know  of  what 
might  be  done  to  us  inside  the  Palacio?  Ah,  Lusita 
querida,  if  its  walls  could  speak  they  might  tell  tales  sad 
enough  to  make  angeW  weep.  We  wouldn't  be  the  first 
who  have  been  subjected  to  insult — ay,  infamy — by  El 
excellentissimo.  Vaga  me  Dios!"  she  cried  out  in  con- 
clusion, stamping  her  foot  on  the  floor,  while  the  flash  of 
her  eyes  told  of  some  fixed  determination.  "If  it  be  so, 
that  Palace  prison  will  have  another  secret  to  keep,  or  a 
tale  to  tell,  sad  and  tragic  as  any  that  has  preceded.  I, 
Ysabel  Almonte*,  shall  die  in  it  rather  than  come  out  dis- 
honoured." 

"  I,  too  1 "  echoed  Luisa  Valverde,  if  in  less  excited 
manner,  inspired  by  a  like  heroic  resolve. 


While  his  fair  prisoners  were  thus  exchanging  thought 
and  speech,  Santander,  in  the  sala  grande  outside,  was 
doing  his  best  to  pass  the  time  pleasantly.  An  effort  it 
was  costing  him,  however,  and  one  far  from  successful. 
His  last  lingering  hope  of  being  beloved  by  Luisa  Valverde 
was  gone — completely  destroyed  by  what  had  late  come 
to  his  knowledge — and  henceforth  his  love  for  her  could 
only  be  as  that  of  Tarquin  for  Lucretia.  Nor  would  he 


UNDER   ARREST.  305 

have  any  Collatinus  to  fear — no  rival,  martial  or  otherwise 
— since  his  master,  Santa  Anna,  had  long  since  given  up 
his  designs  on  Don  Ignacio's  daughter,  exclusively  bend- 
ing himself  to  his  scheme  of  conquest — now  revenge — over 
the  Condesa.  But  though  relieved  in  this  regard,  and 
likely  to  have  his  own  way,  Carlos  Santander  was  any- 
thing but  a  happy  man  after  making  that  arrest ;  instead, 
almost  as  miserable  as  either  of  those  he  had  arrested. 

Still  keeping  up  a  pretence  of  gallantry,  he  could  not 
command  their  company  in  the  drawing-room  where  he 
had  installed  himself;  nor,  under  the  circumstances,  would 
it  have  been  desirable.  He  was  not  alone,  however;  Major 
Ramirez  and  the  other  officers  of  his  escort  being  there 
with  him  ;  and,  as  in  like  cases,  they  were  enjoying  them- 
selves. However  considerate  for  the  feelings  of  the  ladies, 
they  made  free  enough  with  the  house  itself,  its  domestics, 
larder,  and  cocina,  and,  above  all,  the  cellar.  Its  binns 
were  inquired  into,  the  best  wine  ordered  to  be  brought 
from  them,  as  though  they  who  gave  the  order  were  the 
guests  of  an  hotel  and  Don  Ignacio's  drawing-room  a 
drinking  saloon. 

Outside  in  the  court-yard,  and  further  off  by  the  coach- 
house, similar  scenes  were  transpiring.  Never  had  that 
quiet  casa  de  campo  known  so  much  noise.  For  the 
soldiers  had  got  among  them — it  was  the  house  of  a 
and  therefore  devoted  to  ruin. 


CHAPTER  LVIIL 
THE  COCHERO  DOGGED. 

JUST  after  the  ladies  had  been  proclaimed  under  arrest, 
but  before  the  sentinels  were  posted  around  the  house,  a 
man  might  have  been  seen  outside  their  line,  making  all 
haste  away  from  it.  He  had  need,  his  capture  being  also 
contemplated.  Josd  it  was,  who,  from  a  place  of  conceal- 
ment, had  not  only  seen  what  passed,  but  heard  the  con- 
versation between  Santander  and  the  Senoritas.  The 
words  spoken  by  his  young  mistress,  and  the  rejoinder 
received,  were  all  he  waited  for.  Giving  him  his  cue  for 
departure,  they  also  gave  him  hopes  of  something  more 
than  the  saving  of  his  own  life.  That  the  last  was  en- 
dangered he  knew  now — forfeited,  indeed,  should  he  fall 
into  the  hands  of  those  who  had  invaded  the  place.  So, 
instead  of  returning  to  the  stable-yard,  from  which  he  had 
issued  on  hearing  the  fracas  in  front,  he  retreated  rear- 
wards, first  through  the  ornamental  grounds,  then  over  the 
wall  upon  which  the  hunchback  had  perched  himself  on 
the  preceding  night  Josd,  however,  did  not  stay  on  it  for 
more  than  a  second's  time.  Soon  as  mounting  to  its  sum- 
mit, he  slid  down  on  the  other  side,  and  ran  along  the 
lane  in  the  direction  of  the  main  road. 

Before  reaching  this,  however,  a  reflection  caused  him 
to  slacken  pace,  and  then  come  to  a  stop.  It  was  still 
daylight,  and  there  would  be  a  guard  stationed  by  the 
front  gate,  sure  to  see  him  along  the  road.  The  ground 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  lane  was  a  patch  of  rocky 

806 


THE   COCHERO   DOGGED.  307 

scrub — in  short,  a  chapparal — into  which  in  an  instant 
after  he  plunged,  and  when  well  under  cover  again  made 
stop,  this  time  dropping  down  on  his  hands  and  knees. 
The  attitude  gave  him  a  better  opportunity  of  listening ; 
and  listen  he  did — all  ears. 

To  hear  voices  all  around  the  house,  loudest  in  the 
direction  of  the  stable-yard.  In  tones  not  of  triumph,  but 
telling  of  disappointment.  For  in  truth  it  was  so ;  the 
shouts  of  the  soldiers  searching  for  his  very  self,  and  swear- 
ing because  he  could  not  be  found.  He  had  reason  to 
congratulate  himself  in  having  got  outside  the  enclosure. 
It  was  now  being  quartered  everywhere,  gardens,  grounds, 
and  all 

For  the  time  he  felt  comparatively  safe ;  but  he  dared 
not  return"  to  the  lane.  And  less  show  himself  on  the 
open  road ;  as  scouting  parties  were  sure  of  being  sent 
out  after  him.  There  was  no  alternative,  therefore,  but 
stay  where  he  was  till  the  darkness  came  down.  Luckily, 
he  would  not  have  long  to  wait  for  it  The  sun  had  set, 
and  twilight  in  the  Mexican  valley  is  but  a  brief  interval 
between  day  and  night.  In  a  few  minutes  after  com- 
mencement it  is  over. 

Short  as  it  was,  it  gave  him  time  to  consider  his  future 
course  of  action,  though  that  required  little  consideration. 
It  had  been  already  traced  out  for  him,  partly  by  the  Con- 
desa,  in  an  interview  he  held  with  her  but  an  hour  before^ 
an£  partly  by  instructions  he  had  received  when  up  at  the 
old  convent  direct  from  the  lips  of  Don  Ruperto.  There- 
fore, hurried  as  was  his  retreat,  he  was  not  making  it  as 
one  who  went  blindly  and  without  definite  aim.  He  had 
this,  with  a  point  to  be  reached,  which,  could  he  only 
arrive  at,  not  only  might  his  own  safety  be  secured,  but 
that  of  those  he  was  equally  anxious  about,  now  more 
imperilled  than  himself. 


3O8  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

With  a  full  comprehension  of  their  danger,  and  the  hope 
of  being  able  to  avert  it,  soon  as  the  twilight  deepened  to 
darkness  he  forsook  his  temporary  place  of  concealment, 
and,  returning  to  the  lane,  glided  noiselessly  along  it  to- 
wards the  main  road.  Coming  out  upon  this,  he  turned 
to  the  left,  and  without  looking  behind,  hurried  up  the 
hill  as  fast  as  his  limbs  could  carry  him. 

Perhaps  better  for  him  had  he  looked  behind  ;  and  yet 
in  the  end  it  might  have  been  worse.  Whether  or  no,  he 
was  followed  by  a  man — if  it  were  a  man — and,  if  a  thing, 
not  his  own  shadow.  A  grotesque  creature,  seemingly  all 
arms  and  legs,  moved  after,  keeping  pace  with  him,  no 
matter  how  rapidly  he  progressed.  Not  overtaking  him ; 
though  it  looked  as  if  able  to  do  so,  but  did  not  wish. 
Just  so  it  was — the  stalker  being  Zorilla. 

The  stalk  had  risen  rather  accidentally.  The  hunch- 
back— now  in  a  manner  attached  to  the  party  of  Hussars 
— had  been  himself  loitering  near  the  end  of  the  lane,  and 
saw  the  cochero  as  he  came  out  on  the  road.  He  knew  the 
latter  was  being  sought  for,  and  by  no  one  more  zealously 
than  himself.  Besides  cupidity,  he  was  prompted  by 
burning  revenge.  The  disappearance  of  his  ill-gotten 
treasure  was  no  longer  a  mystery  to  him.  The  abandoned 
halters,  with  the  horses  for  which  they  had  been  intended, 
told  him  all  Only  the  cochero  could  have  carried  the 
things  off. 

And  now,  seeing  the  latter  as  he  stole  away  in  retreat, 
his  first  impulse  was  to  raise  the  hue  and  cry,  and  set  the 
soldiers  after.  But  other  reflections,  quick  succeeding, 
restrained  him.  They  might  not  be  in  time  to  secure  a 
capture.  In  the  darkness  there  was  every  chance  of  the 
mertizo  eluding  them.  A  tract  of  forest  was  not  far  off, 
and  he  would  be  into  it  before  they  could  come  up. 
Besides,  the  hunchback  had  also  conjectured  that  the 


THE  COCHERO  DOGGED.  309 

failure  of  their  over-night  expedition  was  due  to  Jose* 
He  must  have  overheard  that  conversation  with  the 
colonel  of  Hussars,  and  carried  it  direct  to  those  whom 
it  so  seriously  concerned,  thus  saving  them  from  the 
surprise  intended.  In  all  likelihood  he  was  now  on  his 
way  to  another  interview  with  them. 

If  so,  and  if  he,  Zorilla,  could  but  spot  the  place,  and 
bring  back  report  of  it  to  Santander,  it  would  give  him  a 
new  claim  for  services,  and  some  compensation  for  the 
loss  he  had  sustained  through  the  now  hated  cochero. 

Soon  as  resolved  he  lost  not  a  moment  in  making  after, 
keeping  just  such  distance  between  as  to  hinder  Jose* 
from  observing  him.  He  had  the  advantage  in  being 
behind,  as  it  was  all  uphill,  and  from  below  he  could  see 
the  other  by  the  better  light  above,  while  himself  in 
obscurity.  But  he  also  availed  himself  of  the  turnings  of 
the  road,  and  the  scrub  that  grew  alongside  it,  through 
which  he  now  and  then  made  way.  His  long  legs  gave  a 
wonderful  power  of  speed,  and  he  could  have  come  up 
with  the  mertizo  at  any  moment.  He  knew  that,  but 
knew  also  it  would  likely  cost  him  his  life.  For  the  cocJiero 
must  be  aware  of  what  he  had  done — enough  to  deserve 
death  at  his  hands.  He  might  well  dread  an  encounter, 
and  was  careful  to  avoid  it.  Indeed,  but  for  his  belief  that 
he  was  an  overmatch  for  the  other  in  speed,  he  would  not 
have  ventured  after  him. 

For  nearly  five  miles  up  the  mountain  road  the  stalk 
was  continued.  Then  he,  whose  footsteps  were  so  per- 
sistently dogged,  was  seen  to  turn  into  a  side  path,  which 
led  along  a  ravine  still  upward.  But  the  change,  of  course, 
did  not  throw  off  the  sleuth-hound  skulking  on  his  track, 
the  latter  also  entering  the  gorge,  and  gliding  on  after. 

There  it  was  darker,  from  the  shadow  of  the  overhang- 
Ing  cliffs  ;  and  for  a  time  the  hunchback  lost  sight  of  him 


3IO  THE   FREE   LANCES. 

he  was  following.  Still,  he  kept  on,  groping  his  way,  and 
at  length  was  rewarded  by  seeing  a  light — a  great  blaze. 
It  came  from  a  bivouac  fire,  which  threw  its  red  glare  on 
the  rocks  around,  embracing  within  its  circle  the  forms  of 
men  and  horses.  Armed  men  they  were,  and  horses 
caparisoned  for  war,  as  could  be  told  by  the  glint  of 
weapons  and  accoutrement  given  back  to  the  fire's  blaze. 

There  appeared  to  be  over  a  hundred  of  them  ;  but  the 
hunchback  did  not  approach  near  enough  to  make  esti- 
mate of  their  number.  Enough  for  him  to  know  who 
they  were ;  and  this  knowledge  he  obtained  by  seeing  a 
man  of  gigantic  size  standing  by  the  side  of  the  fire — the 
"  big  Tejano ! "  He  saw,  too,  that  the  cochero  had  got 
upon  the  ground,  his  arrival  creating  an  excitement.  But 
he  stayed  to  see  no  more :  his  purpose  was  fulfilled  ;  and 
turning  back  down  the  ravine,  he  again  got  out  to  the 
road,  where  he  put  on  his  best  speed  in  return  for  Tlalpam 


CHAPTER  LIX 
READY   TO   START. 

As  in  all  Mexican  country  houses  of  the  class  mansion, 
that  of  Don  Ignacio  Valverde  was  a  quadrangular  structure 
enclosing  an  inner  court-yard — the  patio.  The  latter  a 
wide  open  area,  flagged,  in  its  centre  a  playing  fountain, 
with  orange  trees  and  other  ornamental  evergreens  growing 
in  great  boxes  around  it  Along  three  sides  ran  a  veran- 
dah gallery,  raised  a  step  or  two  above  the  pavement,  with 
a  baluster  and  railing  between.  Upon  this  opened  the 
doors  of  the  different  chambers,  as  they  would  into  the 
hall-way  of  an  English  house.  Being  one-storeyed,  even 
the  sleeping  apartments  were  entered  direct  from  it 

That  into  which  the  ladies  had  retired  was  the  cuarto  de 
camara  of  Don  Luisa  herself.  No  sentry  had  been  sta- 
tioned at  its  door ;  this  being  unnecessary,  in  view  of  one 
posted  at  the  patio.  But  through  a  casement  window, 
which  opened  into  the  garden  at  the  back,  they  could  see 
such  precaution  had  been  taken.  A  soldier  out  there, 
with  carbine  thrown  lightly  over  his  left  arm,  was  doing 
his  beat  backwards  and  forwards. 

As  they  had  no  thought  of  attempting  escape,  they  might 
have  laughed  at  this  had  they  been  in  a  mood  for 
merriment.  But  they  were  sad,  even  to  utter  prostration. 

Only  for  a  time,  however ;  then  something  of  hope 
seemed  to  reanimate  the  Condesa,  and  communicate  itself 
to  her  companion.  It  was  after  a  report  brought  in  by 
Pepita;  for  the  lady's  maid  was  allowed  to  attend  upon 
them,  coming  and  going  freely. 

811 


312  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

"  Pie's  got  away — safe ! "  were  her  words,  spoken  in  a 
cautious  but  cheering  tone,  as  for  the  second  time  she  came 
into  the  room. 

"  Are  you  sure,  Pepita  ?  " 

It  was  the  Countess  who  put  the  question. 

"  Quite  sure,  your  ladyship.  I've  been  all  around  the 
place,  to  the  stable,  grounds,  everywhere,  and  couldn't  hear 
or  see  anything  of  him.  Oh  !  he's  gone,  and  so  glad  I  am. 
They'd  have  made  him  prisoner  too.  Thanks  to  the 
Blessed  Virgin,  they  haven't." 

The  thanksgiving  was  for  Jose*,  and  however  fervent  on 
Pepita's  part,  it  was  as  fervently  responded  to  by  the 
others,  the  Condesa  seeming  more  especially  pleased  at 
the  intelligence. 

She  better  understood  its  importance,  for,  but  the  hour 
before,  she  had  given  him  conditional  instructions,  and 
hoped  he  might  be  now  in  the  act  of  carrying  them  out. 

Upheld  by  this  hope,  which  the  Dona  Luisa,  when  told 
of  it,  shared  with  her,  they  less  irksomely  passed  the  hours. 

But  at  length,  alas !  it,  too,  was  near  being  given  up,  as 
the  night  grew  later,  nearing  midnight.  Then  the  little 
mertiza  came  in  charged  with  new  intelligence ;  not  so 
startling,  since  they  anticipated  it.  The  Dueno  had  got 
home,  and,  as  themselves,  was  under  arrest.  Astounded 
by  what  he  had  learned  on  return,  and  angrily  protesting, 
the  soldiers  had  rudely  seized  hold  of  him,  even  refusing 
him  permission  to  speak  with  his  daughter. 

She  had  harboured  a  belief  that  all  might  be  well  on 
the  coming  home  of  her  father.  The  last  plank  was 
shattered  now.  From  the  chair  of  the  cabinet  minister 
Don  Ignacio  Valverde  would  step  direct  into  the  cell  of  a 
prison !  Nothing  uncommon  in  the  political  history  of 
Mexico — only  one  of  its  "cosas." 

On  their  feet  they  were  now,  and  had  come  close  to  the 


READY    TO    START.  313 

door,  whi:h  was  held  slightly  open  by  Pepita.  There 
they  stood  listening  to  what  was  going  on  outside.  The 
sounds  of  revelry  lately  proceeding  from  the  sala  grande 
were  no  more  heard.  Instead,  calls  and  words  of  command 
in  the  courtyard,  with  a  bustle  of  preparation.  Through 
the  trellis- work  they  could  see  a  carriage  with  horse.s 
attached,  distinguishable  as  their  own.  It  was  the  same 
which  had  just  brought  Don  Ignacio  from  the  city.  But 
the  heads  of  ti\t  frisoms  were  turned  outward,  as  if  it  was 
intended  to  take  them  back.  Men  on  horseback  were 
moving  around  it ;  soldiers,  as  could  be  seen  by  their 
armour  gleaming  in  the  moonlight. 

Those  regarding  their  movements  were  not  left  long  in 
suspense  as  to  their  meaning.  One  of  the  soldiers  on  foot, 
whose  sleeve  chevrons  proclaimed  him  a  corporal,  stepped 
up  into  the  corridor,  and  advancing  along  it,  halted  in  front 
of  their  door.  Seeing  it  open,  with  faces  inside,  he  made  a 
sort  of  military  salute,  in  a  gruff  voice  saying : 

"  Senoritas  !  Carriage  ready.  I've  orders  to  conduct 
you  to  it  without  delay." 

There  was  something  offensive  in  the  man's  manner. 
He  spoke  with  a  thick  tongue,  and  was  evidently  half 
intoxicated.  But  his  air  showed  him  in  earnest. 

"  You'll  allow  us  a  little  time — to  put  on  our  cloaks? s> 

The  request  came  from  the  Condesa,  who  for  a  certain 
reason  was  wishful  to  retard  their  departure  as  long  as 
might  be  possible. 

"  Carrai — */"  drawled  out  the  cabo,  the  same  who  had 
won  the  dagger  from  darling  Perico.  "  I'd  allow  such 
beautiful  doncellas  as  you  any  time — all  night — if  'twere 
only  left  to  me.  For  myself,  I'd  far  rather  stick  to  these 
snug  quarters,  and  the  company  of  this  pretty  mitchacha? 

At  which,  leaning  forward,  with  a  brutish  leer,  he  at- 
tempted to  snatch  a  kiss  from  Pepita, 


314  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

The  girl  shrunk  back,  but  not  till  she  had  rebuked  him 
with  an  angry  retort  and  a  slap  across  the  cheek.  It  stung 
him  to  losing  temper,  and  without  further  ceremony  he 
said  spitefully, — 

"Come,  come,  I'll  have  no  more  dilly-dallying:  nos 
vamos  !  " 

There  was  no  alternative  but  to  obey  ;  his  attitude  told 
them  he  would  insist  upon  it,  and  instantly.  Time  for 
cloaking  had  been  a  pretence  on  their  part.  They  were 
expecting  the  summons,  and  the  wraps  were  close  at  hand. 
Flinging  them  around  their  shoulders,  and  drawing  the 
hoods  over  their  heads,  they  issued  out  upon  the  corridor, 
and  turned  along  it — the  soldier  preceding,  with  the  air  of 
one  who  conducted  criminals  to  execution. 

A  short  flight  of  steps  led  down  to  the  pavement  of 
the  court.  On  reaching  these,  they  paused  and  looked 
below.  There  was  still  a  bustling  about  the  carriage,  as 
if  some  one  had  just  been  handed  into  it.  Several  of  the 
soldiers  were  on  foot  around  it,  but  the  majority  were  in 
their  saddles  ;  and  of  these  three  or  four  could  be  distin- 
guished as  officers  by  the  greater  profusion  of  gold  lace  on 
their  jackets  and  dolmans — for  they  were  all  Hussars. 
One  who  glittered  more  than  any,  seeing  them  at  the  head 
of  the  stair,  gave  his  horse  a  prick  with  the  spur,  and  rode 
up.  Colonel  Santander  it  was,  like  all  the  rest  somewhat 
excited  by  drink  ;  but  still  not  so  far  gone  as  to  forget 
gallantry,  or  rather  the  pretence  of  it. 

"  Ladies,"  he  said,  with  a  bow  and  air  of  maudlin 
humility,  "  I  have  to  apologise  for  requiring  you  to  start 
out  on  a  journey  at  such  a  late  hour.  Duty  is  often  an 
ungracious  master.  Luckily,  your  drive  is  not  to  be  a  very 
extended  one — only  to  the  city  ;  and  you'll  have  company 
in  the  carriage.  The  Dona  Luisa  will  find  her  father  at 
home.0 


"SURKENDERl"  315 

Neither  vouchsafed  rejoinder— not  &  ^voffl — scarce  giving  him  the  grace  of  a 
look.  Which  'a  little  nettling  him,  his  ^smooth  tone  changed  to  asperity,  as 
addressing  himself  to  the  soldier,  he  gave  the  abrupt  order:  "  Cabo!  take 
them  on  to  the  carriage."  On  they  were  taken;  as  they  approached  it, 
perceiving  a  face  inside,  pale  as  the  moonbeams  that  played  upon  it.  It 
was  a  very  picture  of  dejection;  for  never  had  Don  Ignacio  Valverde  ex- 
perienced misery  such  as  he  felt  now.  "  Tis  you  father  !"  said  bis  daugh- 
ter, springing  up,  throwing  her  arms  around  him,  and  showering  kisses 
where  tears  already  trickled.  "You  a  prisoner,  too!"  "Ay,  nina  mut. 
But  sit  down.  Don't  be  alarmed  !  It  will  all  come  right.  Heaven  will 
have  mercy  on  us,  if  men  do  not.  Sit  down  Luisa  !"  She  sat  down  me- 
chanically, the  Countess  by  her  side;  and  the  door  was  banged  to  behind 
thorn.  Meanwhile,  Pepita,  who  insisted  on  accompanying  her  mis; 
had  been  handed  up  to  the  box  by  a  cochero  strange  to  her;  one  of  the  sol- 
diers, pressed  into  the  service  for  the  occasion,  a  quondam  "  jarvey,"  now 
understood  the  handling  of  horses  as  every  Mexican  docs.  All  were  ready 
now  for  the  road;  the  dismounted  Hussar*  had  vaulted  into  their  saddles, 
the  "march"  was  commanded,  and  the  driver  bad  drawn  his  whip  to  lay 
it  on  his  horses,  when  the  animals  jibbed,  rearing  up,  and  snorting  in 
affright  !  No  wonder,  with  such  an  object  suddenly  coming  under  their 
eyes.  An  oddly-shaped  creature  that  came  scrambling  in  through  the  swjuaii 
and  made  stop  beneath  their  very  noses.  A  human  being  withal;  who,  soon 
as  entering,  called  out  in  a  clear  voice— "Where  "is  the  Colonel?" 

CHAPTER  LX. 

' ' SURRENDER!" 

IF  THE  carriage  horses  were  startled  by  the  apparition,  no  less  so  were  the 
Hussars  formed  round.  Equally  frightened  these,  though  not  from  the 
same  cause.  The  Hunchback— for  it  was  he  -had  become  a  familiar  sight 
to  them;  but  not  agitated  as  he  appeared  to  be  now.  He  was  panting  for 
breath,  barely  able  to  &asp  out  the  interrogation,  "Adone  rstael  Coronel!" 
His  distraught  air  and  the  tone  told  of  some  threatening  danger.  "  I  !(•!•<•!" 
called  out  Santander,  springing  his  horse  a  length  or  two  forward,  "What 
is  it,  sirrah?"  "The  enemy  S'nor  Colonel,"  responded  the  dwarf,  sliding 
close  into  the  stirrup.  "Enemy!  What  enemy?"  ''Them  we  missed 
catching — Don  Ituperto,  the  Irlandes,  the  big  Tejuno."  "Ha! — They!  - 
Where?"  "  Close  by,  S'nor.  I  saw  them  round  a  great  camp  fire  up  in 
the  mountains.  They're  not  there  now,  I  came  on  to  tell  you.  I  ran  as 
fast  as  ever  I  was  able,  but  the've  been  following.  I  could  hear  the  tramp 
of  their  horses  behind  all  the  way.  They  must  be  near  at  hand  now. 
Hark  !"  "  Patria  y  Libertad  !"  The  cry  came  from  without,  in  the  tone  of 
a  charging  shibboleth,  other  voices  adding,  "  Mueran  los  tyrannos  !"  Instan- 
taneously succeeded  by  the  cracking  of  carbines,  with  shouts,  and  the  clash 
of  steel  against  steel — the  sounds  of  a  hand-to-hand  fight,  which  the 
stamping  and  snorting  of  horses  proclaimed  between  calvary.  Never  was 
conflict  of  shorter  duration;  over  almost  before  they  in  the  courtyard  could 
realize  its  having  commenced.  The  confused  sounds  of  the  melee  lasted 
barely  a  minute  when  a  loud  huzza,  drowning  the  hoof-strokes  of  the  re- 
treating horses,  told  that  victory  had  declared  itself  for  one  side  or  the 
other.  They  who  listened  were  not  long  in  doubt  as  to  which  sent  up 
that  triumphant  cheer.  Through  the  front  gate,  standing  open,  burst  a 
mass  of  mounted  men,  some  carrying  lances  couched  for  the  thrust, 
others  with  drawn  sabres,  many  of  their  blades  dripping  blood.  On  came 
they  into  the  courtyard,  still  vociferating:  "Mueran  los  tyrannos  !"  while 


316  THE    FREE    LANOES. 

he  at  their  head,  soon  as  showing  himself,  called  out  in  a  commanding 
voice,  "Rendite?"  By  this  a  change  had  taken  j^ace  in  the  tableau  of 
figures  beside  the  carriage.  The  Hussars  having  reined  back,  had  gathered 
in  a  ruck  around  their  colonel,  irresolute  how  to  act.  Equally  um\  solved 
he  to  order  them.  That  cry,  "Country  and  Liberty,"  had  struck  terror  to 
iris  heart;  and  now  seeing  those  it  came  from,  recognising  the  three  who 
rode  foremost — as  in  the  clear  moonlight  he  could — the  blood  of  the  craven 
ran  cold.  They  were  the  men  he  had  subjected  to  insult,  direct  degrada- 
tion; and  he  need  look  for  no  mercy  at  their  ha«ds.  With  a  spark  of  man- 
hood, even  such  as  despair  sometimes  inspires,  he  would  have  shown  fight. 
Major  Ramirez  would,  and  did;  for  at  the  first  alarm  he  had  galloped  out  to 
the  gate  and  there  met  death.  Not  so  Santauder,  who,  although  he  had 
taken  his  sword  <rat  of  its  scabbard,  made  no  attempt  to  use  it,  but  sat 
'^shivering  in  his  saddle,  as  if  the  weapon  was  about  to  drop  from  his  hand. 
On  the  instant  after  a  blade  more  firmly  held,  and  better  wielded,  ihu  bed 
before  his  eyes;  lie  who  held  it,  as  he  sprung  Iris  horso  up,  crying  out: 
"  Carlos  Santander!  your  hour  has  come!  Scoundrel!  This  time  I 
ini'-ud  killing  you."  Even  the  insulting  threat  stung  him  not  to  resislance. 
Never  shone  moonlight  on  more  of  a  poltroon,  the  glitter  and  grandeur  of 
his  warlike  dress  in  striking  contrast  with  his  cowardly  mien.  "  Miserable 
wretch!"  cried  Kearney-  for  it  was  he  who  confronted  him — "I  don't  want 
to  kill  you  iu  cold  blood.  Heaven  forbid  my  doing  murder.  Defend  your- 
self." "He  defend  hisself  !"  scornfully  exclaimed  a  voice— that  of  Cris 
Rock.  "  He  dnsseii't  a.s  much  as  do  that.  He  hasn't  the  steel  shirt  on 
now."  Yet  another  voice  at  this  moment  made  itself  heard,  as  a  figure, 
feminine,  became  added  to  the  group.  Luisa  Valverde  it  was.  who  rushing 
out  of  the  carriage  and  across  the  courtyard,  cried  out. — "  Spare  his  life, 
Don  Florencio.  He's  not  worthy  of  your  sword."  "You're  right  thar, 
young  lady,"  endorsed  the  Texan,  answering  for  Kearney.  "That  he  ain't 
—an'  bare  worth  the  bit  o'  lead  that's  inside  o'  this  ole  pistol.  For  all  I'll 
make  him  a  present  o'  't— thar,  dang  ye."  The  last  words  were  accom- 
panied by  a  flash  and  a  crack,  causing  Santnnder's  horse  to  shy  and  rear 
up.  When  the  fore  hoofs  of  the  animal  returned  to  the  flags,  they  but  missed 
coining  down  upon  the  body  of  its  rider,  now  lying  lifeless  along  them. 
"That's  gin  him  his  quieetus,  I  reckin,"  observed  llock,  as  he  glanced 
down  at  the  dead  man,  whose  face  upturned  had  the  full  moonlight  upon 
it,  showing  handsome  features,  that  withal  were  forbidding  in  life,  but  now 
more  so  in  the  ghastly  pallor  of  death.  No  one  stayed  to  gaze  upon  them, 
least  of  all  the  Texan,  who  had  yet  another  life  to  take,  as  he  deemed  in 
the  strict  execution  of  duty  and  satisfaction  of  justice.  For  it  too  was 
forfeit  by  the  basest  betrayal  The  soldiers  were  out  of  their  saddles  now, 
prisoners  all;  having  surrendered  without  s '.liking  a  blow.  But  crouching 
away  in  a  shadowy  corner  was  that  thing  of  deformity,  who,  from  his  diminu- 
tive "size,  might  well  have  escaped  observation.  He  did  not,  however.  The 
Texan  had  his  eyes  on  him  all  the  while,  having  caught  a  glimpse  of 
him  as  they  were  riding  in  at  the  gate.  And  in  those  eyes  now  gleamed  a 
light  of  a  vengeanor  not  to  be  allayed  save  by  a  life  sacrificed.  If  Santan- 
der on  seeing  Kearney  believed  his  hour  was  come,  so  did  the  dwarf  as  he 
saw  Cris  lick  striding  towards  him.  Caught  by  the  collar,  and  dragged 
out  into  the  light,  he  knew  death  was  near  now.  In  vain  his  protestations 
and  piteous  appeals.  Spite  of  all,  ha  had  to  die.  And  a  death  so  unlike 
that  usually  meted  out  to  criminals,  as  he  himself  to  the  commonality  of 
men.  No  weapon  was  employed  in  putting  an  end  to  him:  neither  gun 
nor  pistol,  sword  nor  knife.  Letting  go  hold  of  his  collar,  the  Texan 


CONCLUSION.  317 

grasped  him  around  the  ankles,  and  with  a  brandish  raising  him  aloft, 
brought  his  head  down  upon  the  pavement.  There  was  a  crash  as  the 
breaking  of  a  cocoa-nut  shell  with  a  hnmmer;  and  when  Rock  let  go,  the 
mass  of  mis-shapen  humanity  dropped  in  a  dollop  upon  the  flags,  amis 
and  legs  limp  and  motionless,  in  the  last  not  even  the  power  left  for  a  spas- 
modic kick.  "Ye  know,  Cap,"  said  the  Texan,  justifying  himself  to 
Kearney,  "  I'd  be  the  last  man  to  do  a  cruel  thing.  But  to  rid  the  \\  orld  o' 
such  varmint  as  them,  'cording  to  my  way  o'  thinking,  air  the  purest  h  w- 
/  inanity."  A  doctrine  which  the  young  Irishman  was  not  disposed  to  dis- 
i  pute  just  at  that  time,  being  otherwise  and  better  occupied,  holding  soft 
hands  in  his,  words  exchanging  with  sweet  lips,  not  unaccompanied  by 
kisses.  Near  at  hand  Don  Buperto  was  doing  the  same,  his  vis-a-vis  \ 
tbe  Condesa.  But  these  moments  of  bliss  were  brief — had  need  be.  The  raid 
of  the  Free  Lancers  down  to  San  Augustin  was  a  thing  of  risk,  only  to  have 
been  attempted  by  lovers  who  believed  their  loved  ones  were  in  de  id'.y 
danger.  In  another  hour  or  less,  the  Hussars  who  had  escaped  would  re- 
port themselves  at  San  Angel  and  Chapul tepee— then  there  would  be  a  rusk 
of  thousands  in  the  direction  of  Tlalpam.  So  there  was  in  reality — soldiers 
of  all  arms,  "horse,  foot,  and  dragoons."  But  on  arrival  they  found  the 
house  of  Don  Ignacio  Valverde  untenanted;  even  the  domestics 
out  of  it;  the  carriage,  too,  which  has  played  such  an  important  \ 
our  ^tale,  along  with  the  noble  frisones.  The  horses  had  not  been 
out  of  it,  nor  any  change  made  in  tbe  company  it  carried  off.  Only  in  the 
driver,  the  direction,  and  cortege.  Jose  again  held  the  reins,  heading  his 
horses  up  the  mountain  road,  instead  of  towards  Mexico:  while  in  place  of 
Colonel  Santander's  Hussars,  the  Free  Lances  of  Captain  Buperto  U 
now  formed  a  more  friendly  escort. 

CHAPTEB  LXI. 

CONCLUSION. 

ABOUT  a  month~after  in  San  Augustin  a  small  two-masted  vessel— a 
goleta — might  have  been  observed  standing  on  tacks  off  the  coast  of 
Oaxaca,  as  if  working  against  the  land  wind  to  make  to  the  mouth  of  Eio 
Tecoyama — a  stream  which  runs  into  the  Pacific  n^ar  the  south-western 
corner  of  that  State.  Only  sharp  eyes  could  have  seen  the  schooner;  for 
it  was  night,  and  the  night  was  a  very  dark  one.  There  were  eyes  sharply 
on  the  look  out  for  her,  however,  anxiously  scanning  the  hoii/ori  to  lee- 
ward, some  of  them  through  glasses.  On  an  elevated  spot  among  tbe  man- 
groves, by  the  river's  mouth,  a  party  was  assembled,  in  all  about  a  score 
individuals.  They  were  mostly  men,  though  not  exclusively;  three  female 
figures  being  distinguishable,  as  forming  party-of  the  group.  Two  of  them 
had  the  air,  and  wore  the  dress,  of  ladies,  somewhat  torn  and  tr..vel- 
stained;  the  third  was  in  the  guise  of  a  maid-servant  attending  them.  They 
were  the  Condesa  Almonte,  the  Don  Luisa  Valverde,  and  her  ever  faithful 
Pepita.  Among  the  men  were  six  with  whom  the  reader  has  acquaintance. 
Don  Ignacio,  Kearney,  Kock,  Eivas,  Jose,  and  he  who  had  been  major 
donio  in  the  old  monastery,  baptismally  named  Gregorio.  Most  of  the 
others,  undescribed,  had  also  spent  some  time  in  the  establishment  with 
the  monks  while  playing  the  part  of  Free  Lances.  They  were,  in  fact,  a 
remnant  of  the  band — now  broken  up  and  dispersed,  But  why!  when  last 
seen  it  looked  as  though  their  day  of  triumph  had  come,  or  was  at  all 
events  near.  So  would  it  have  been  but  for  a  betrayal,  through  which 
the  pronimciamento  had  miscarried,  or  rather  did  not  come  off.  The  Dic- 
tator, well  informed  about  it — further  warned  by  what  had  occurred  at 
San  Augustin — had  poured  troops  over  the  Sierras  into  Oaxaca  in  force 


318  THE    FREE    LANCES. 

sufficient  to  awe  the  leaders  of  the  intended  insurrection.  It  was  but  oy 
the  breadth  of  a  hair  that  his  late  Cabinet  Minister,  and  those  who  accom- 
panied him,  were  able  to  escape  to  the  sequestere  1  spot  where  we  find 
them  on  the  shore  of  the  South  Sea.  To  Alvarez,  chief  of  the  Pintos,  or 
'•'  spotted  Indians,"  were  they  indebted  for  safe  conduct  thither;  he  himself 
having  adroitly  kept  clear  of  all  compromise  consequent  on  that  grito  un- 
raised.  Furthermore,  he-  had  promised  to  provide  them  with  a  vessel  in 
which  they  might  escape  out  of  the  country;  and  it  was  for  this  they  wore 
now  on  the  look-out.  When  Euperto  Eivas,  gazing  through  that  same 
telescope  he  had  given  Florence  Kearney  to  make  survey  of  the  valley  of 
Mexico,  cried  out,  "La  goleta!"  every  eye  around  him  brightened,  every 
heart  beat  joyously.  Still  more  rejoiced  were  they  when,  after  an  hour's 
tacking  against  the  land  breeze,  the  goleta  got  inside  the  estuary  of  the 
stream,  and  working  up,  brought  up  by  the  edge  of  the  mangroves.  Un- 
encumbered with  heavy  baggage,  they  weie  all  soon  aboard,  and  in  three 
days  after  debarked  at  the  port  of  Panama.  Thence  crossing  the 
Isthmus  to  Chagres.  another  sea-going  craft  carried  them  on 
to  the  city,  where  they  need  no  longer  live  in  fear  of  Mexico's  despot. 
Back  to  his  old  quarters  in  New  Orleans  had  Don  Ignacio  repaired;  again 
under  the  ban  of  proscription,  his  estates  sequestrated  as  before.  So,  too, 
those  of  the  Condesa  Almonte.  But  not  for  all  time,  believed  they.  They 
lived  in  hope  of  a  restoration.  Nor  were  they  disappointed;  for  it  canie. 
The  pronunciamento  delayed  was  at  length  proclaimed  and  carried  to  a  suc- 
cessful issue.  Once  again  throughout  the  land  of  Anahuac  had  arisen  a 
"gaito,"  its  battle  cry  "  Patria  y  Libertad  !"  so  earnestly  and  loudly 
shouted  as  to  drive  the  Dictator  from  his  mock  throne;  sending  him,  as 
several  times  before,  to  seek  safety  in  a  foreign  land.  Nor  were  the  "  Free 
Lancers"_unrepresented  in  this  revolutionary  struggle;  instead,  the}'  pi. 
an  important  part  in  it.  Ere  it  broke  out,  they  who  had  fled  the  country 
re-entered  it  over  the  Texan  border,  and  rejoining  their  brethern,  became 
once  more  ranged  under  the  leadership  of  Captain  Euperto  Eivas,  with 
Florence  Kearney  as  his  lieutenant,  and  Cris  Eock  a  sort  of  attache  to  the 

band,  but  a  valuable  adjunct  to  its  fighting  force. 

*  *  **  «  *  *  *  * 

Swords  returned  to  their  scabbards,  bugles  no  longer  sounding  war  sig- 
nals, it  remains  but  to  speak  of  an  episode  of  more  peaceful  and  pleasant  er 
nature,  which  occurred  at  a  later  period,  and  not  so  very  long  after.  The 
place  was  inside  the  Grand  Cathedral  of  Mexico,  at  whose  altar,  surrounded 
by  a  throng  of  the  land's  elite,  bells  ringing,  and  organ  music  vibrating  on 
the  air,  stood  three  couples,  waiting  to  be  wedded.  And  wedded  they  were  ! 
Don  Euperto  Eivas  to  the  Condesa  Almonte,  Florence  Kearney  to  the  Dona 
Luisa  Valverde,  and — Jose  to  Pepita.  Happy  they,  and  happy  also  one 
who  was  but  a  witness  of  the  ceremony,  having  a  better  view  of  it  than  most 
of  the  spectators,  from  being  the  head  and  shoulders  taller  than  any.  Need 
we  say  this  towering  personage  was  the  big  Tejano?  Kris  looked  on  de- 
lightedly, proud  of  his  comrade  and  protege,  with  the  beautiful  bride  he  had 
won  and  was  wedding.  For  all  it  failed  to  shake  his  own  faith  ;u  single 
blessedness.  In  his  eyes  there  was  no  bride  so  beautiful  as  the  {i  Land  of 
the  Lone  Star,"  no  wife  so  dear  as  its  wild  ' *  purairas. "  And  to  them  after 
a  time  he  returned,  oft  around  the  camp-fire  entertaining  his  companions  of 
the  chase  with  an  account  of  his  adventures  in  the  Mexican  valley— how  he 
had  there  figured  in  the  various  roles  of  jail-bird,  scavenger,  friar,  and  last 
of  all  as  one  of  the  FREE  LANCES. 

THE  END. 


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